Anything Goes
by Dragonkingofthestars
Summary: Louise summons the Lone wanderer just in time, The coming days will be dark and war torn, and war, war never changes. Now betaed by Red death, Prologe to chapter three.
1. prologue

_Three Dog: Hello, Capital Wasteland, and welcome to Galaxy News Radio - the station with the most news for the buck. From Megaton to Girdershade, Paradise Falls to the Republic of Dave, we're coming to you in a special live report._

_I'm sure many of you will have noticed that I'm not as excited as I normally am. Well, I have good reason. Good old 101, the Wasteland Messiah himself, may be no more._

_I know! I'm getting choked up a little as well. Joining me is 101's companion at the time, Charon, right here in the studio. So Charon, tell us what happened._

_Charon: We were moving up near Little Lamplight looking for super mutants when we were ambushed by a deathclaw. It bull-rushed toward us from out of nowhere and sent the Lone Wanderer flying, leaving me and Dogmeat._

_Dogmeat: (whines)_

_Charon: I fired two shotgun rounds into it before it got to me and sent me back, carving deep gashes in my armor. Then, just as it was about to crush my head with its jaws, out of nowhere the Lone Wanderer was back, in his left hand he clenched a Shishkebab, the flame glowing cherry red._

_He then jumped onto the deathclaw's head. Clenching its horns he tried to bring the sword down but the deathclaw, roaring like a demon, stumbled left and slid out of view down a slope._

_I stood up quickly drawing my shotgun to join him when it happened._

_Three Dog: What happened?_

_Charon: There was a flash of light and a sound like a mini nuke had gone off; a massive smoke cloud was kicked up, blowing me back from the edge. I ran to the top to find nothing. Both the Deathclaw and 101 were gone._

_Three Dog: What do you think happened?_

_Charon: I don't know. Anything could have happened to him. Anything._

_Three Dog: You heard it here folks - the Lone Wanderer is no more._

_Charon: No!_

_Three Dog: Excuse me?_

_Charon: There was no body, no scorch marks, no radiation. Whatever happened to him he is not dead. And let me say this, wherever 101 is, wherever Wheatley is I will say this..._

_Three Dog: (softly) That's the first time his name's been spoken on this network._

_Charon: He is still fighting the good fight._


	2. summoned, RUN!

It was a bright day at Tristain Academy of Magic once more. It was the first day of spring; time to summon familiars.

Louise took a deep breath, it was her turn and she had to do this! Prove she was not a Zero! Raising her wand she began the chant.

"I beg of you... my servant who lives somewhere in the universe!" The odd words drew attention from everyone. What kind of chant was that? Even Tabitha, who had her nose buried in a book even at the best of times, was giving Louise her full attention as she continued with her strange chant.

"Oh sacred, beautiful, and strong familiar spirit! I desire and here I plead from my heart! Answer to my guidance!" Louise's wand came down with the emotional force of a guillotine, and like always with every spell a large explosion was created. Clothing billowed from the shock wave. Beating the smoke away from her face, Louise's heart fell. Another explosion? Then from the smoke, the 'fruit of the boom' loomed.

Only the silhouette was visible at first, but even that showed a mighty beast. Maybe a dragon? It was tall, maybe ten feet with long arms and a tail. It was like no dragon she had ever seen or heard about. Though, even better! An undiscovered species? That was even better then the rarest known dragon! Already, she could hear the praise of her classmates and the humbling of those who dared call her a zero!

Before she could move forward the dragon roared in rage, sending many a pair of hands to their own ears. Then it charged out of the smoke to reveal what it was.

It was actually nine feet tall, a pair of demonic horns curling over its head, thick scaly skin, and large talons on the end of its arms. The last foot in height she had though it had in the smoke was due to what was atop its head - a man.

Louise could not get a good view on the person thanks to the way the dragon bucked and struggled to throw him off, but whoever he was he was just about wrestling a dragon and winning!

He wore a long duster, and that was all she could make out about him personally. A sword was flying loose, connected by some sort of cable to his back and was bouncing out of reach from the frantic screeches and stuggles,, of her familiar! It hit her just as the man drew a large knife from somewhere and stabbed into the dragon's eye; he was killing her familiar!

People were screaming, trying to back away from the rabid thing. Other familiars sped away like they were chased by predators. She could not take her eyes away from the unfolding disaster - at the commoner who would dare try and kill her familiar!

Grunting, the commoner drew the knife out then stabbed it back in to the dragon's right eye, his left hand clutching a horn, and he twisted the knife well and truly blinding it.

Screaming, it stumbled left and the man threw his weight that way, making it stumble even more, trying to bring it to the ground. It was heading right toward Louise! It was so fast, one moment it was a safe distance away the next it was looming over her! The man on top seemed to see her at the last moment.

Everything seemed to slow down. The man looked at her with mounting horror through his spectacles and swung his full weight the other way. It was enough to suddenly tip the surprised dragon over on to its back, only a few inches from Louise.

He must have been very heavy because simply by holding the horns from his upside down position he kept it pinned. Even as it struggled to stand back up he fought its every move.

"Mr. Colbert!" she finally screened in horror and rage. "That commoner is killing my familiar!" The bald teacher (who had both taken cover and prepped a fire ball spell at the fighting pair) had no answer. This was beyond his experience!

The man grabbed the cable holding his sword to his back and pulled it in, hand over hand till he grasped the hilt tightly in his right hand. The blade was quickly wreathed in flames.

_Wait, he's a noble?_ Louise thought.

The man let go of the horns and quickly stood back up. As the dragon rolled over to stand up, and before its head could get far off the ground, the man lifted his sword in a two handed grip, blade glowing brightly just before he stabbed his sword into its head pinning it to the ground with a roar of rage.

"No!" Louise shouted, her familiar was dead before she could even finish the contract! With a roar of pain the dragon pulled its head back, shearing the rest of its face and head in half as its own death throes forced it to slice its own skull apart in a spray of blood.

It stood up for a half second, unaware that it was dead, then it collapsed. The man took a half step back and seemed unphased as its massive head collapsed in front of him, spilling blood and brains around his boots.

Silence spilled over the familiar summoning area. No one, not even Kirche could say anything. The man was panting heavily then started to look around, with a very confused look on his face.

"Mr. Colbert!" Louise screeched "I need to do the ritual again!"

"I can't let you do that," Mr. Colbert said, his eyes and wand not leaving the man in front of them. "The ritual is sacred and whatever is summoned is your familiar."

"I did summon something! But this comm... noble," Louise said, substituting commoner for noble at the last second remembering the flaming sword as she pointed at him. "Killed it!"

The black haired man spoke some odd language at them they could not understand. When he got no response he scoffed and kept looking around.

"I think that _is_ your familiar." Colbert said as he fired a translation spell at the man.

"What?" Louise said "I've never heard of a human familiar!"

"Be that as it may, it's no different than summoning any predator in mid-meal." That had happened before. but generally speaking the other animal was already dead.

Silence echoed as the man drew a canteen from somewhere and took a deep drink of it.

"In a strange place, with a bunch of gibberish-speaking cultists. Lovely," he said to himself.

"You were the one speaking 'gibberish'," Louise said sharply. He spluttered water in surprise.

"You _do_ speak English! Good, now the obligatory questions: Who are you? Where am I? How I did get here? And why is everything so damn green?" He looked around, now seriously taking his situation in. "This can't be Oasis. You all Treeminders or something?" He sighed at the blank stares, "Clearly you don't have the slightest idea what that means."

"In order: I am Professor Colbert, you are at the Tristain Academy of Magic, and you were summoned by the familiar summoning ritual." The man scoffed.

"Magic does not exist, buddy." the man said with a vaguely offend tone.

"Says the man with the flaming sword," Colbert said, surprised by his declaration.

"Not magic but... err, I'll explain later." He slid the sword into his belt and looked around even more suspiciously. "Granted that might be the only explanation left," he said softly. He looked very much like a man out of place with the world. "Familiar summoning ritual?" he asked louder. "If that's right then who summoned me?"

"Her." Colbert said, pointing at Louise. The noble looked at her, and she got a good look at his face.

Black hair, well tanned skin, a pair of spectacles sat on his nose. But it was his _eyes_. They were amber colored, and like the rocks they were named after they were hard; the eyes of a man who had killed many, many times. And would do so again.

The eyes softened. They now held the look a parent would have, looking at a child, or a man to one who was injured that he would soon help. The eyes of a saint, of one who truly cared about his fellow man. Those eyes fell upon the pink-haired girl before him then shifted back to Colbert. "So what's to keep me from walking off?"

Louise blanched. If what the man said was true and he left then she would be expelled!

"Nothing I can think of," Colbert said. "Save perhaps that you have no idea where you are, and are completely lost." The strange man scrunched up his face.

"I get the feeling you're playing me mister."

"Am I wrong?" Colbert said back.

The strange noble looked around again. "Not that I call tell," he said, then sighed. "I suppose I'm stuck with it. My name is Wheatley James. Also known as 101, or the 'Lone Wanderer,' but please just call me Wheatley."

Colbert coughed. "She still needs to finish the ritual."

"What you mean I have to... him?" Louise said shocked and the now-dubbed Wheatley frowned.

"What? You have to kiss me or something?" In the silence that followed, he sighed. "Of course." He rubbed some blood off his hand. "I think my hand is as clean as it's going to get."

"It has to be on the lips," Louise muttered, turning red. Her classmates may have been too stunned by the still cooling dragon body to comment, but she knew she would get harassed on this later.

Wheatley looked worried. "I hate to bring this up but back home, a girl as young as you kissing me… well, umm..." He was clearly uncomfortable with this line of thought.

"It will be chaste." Colbert clarified, lowering his wand, though his eyes kept a hard look at the man. Wheatley sighed.

"Why are you looking at me like you want to put a bullet in me?"

"I don't trust you yet."

"What have I ever done-" he paused and threw a look back at the dead dragon. "-to _you_ to warrant that?" Colbert eyes softened. "I'll give you that." he said after a moment of thought.

"Would you too kiss and make out already!" Kirche called "We haven't got all day!" the other students chuckled at that.

"I don't like her already." Wheatley muttered before walking out of the pool of dragon blood he had been standing in.

"Right lets get this over with." he said bending over to put his face at Louise eye level. "Do your chanty thing and let's move along."

With a sigh, Louise walked up and spoke. "My name is Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière. Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers-" Before she could finish she started to gag. Founder! This man reeked! It was like some sick thing had crawled into his coat then curled up and died there- a year ago!

She choked out the rest of the chant a little faster then was necessary. "Grant-your-blessings-upon-this-humble-being-and-make-him-my-familiar." She tapped her wand to his head and kissed his hand. Backing up, she yelled at him from a safe distance. "And you first order is take a bath!" The other students laughed at that and she blushed red.

Meanwhile the magic took root. His left hand, the one hidden under a strange glove began to burn and he tightly clenched it in pain, grimacing in pain for a few moments before it passed.

Stumbling lightly he asked, "Could you say that again? I was just in utter agony here!" More students laughed.

"I said take a bath!" Louise said glaring at the man in front of her, who looked oddly anxious

"A bath, with clean water?"

"What other kind is there?" Louise said with a hiss.

"And you have the clean water to waste, on a bath?" He voice sounded both anxious and incredulous.

"What do you mean waste? Is water hard to come by where you from?" Louise asked, surprised. The only place she could think of was a desert of some kind.

"Yes, but lead on!" He said with an arm move "I can feel the waters now!" Louise huffed and walked off, Wheatley close behind.

"Wait! What do we do with this?" Professor Colbert asked, pointing at the dead dragon.

"Burn it!" Wheatley spun and walked backward a few steps as he spoke. "Deathclaws taste horrible." He turned back around to follow Louise like a puppy promised a treat. Colbert looked at the monster and shivered. Deathclaw, a more then perfect name.


	3. Cleaning

Wheatley couldn't keep his eyes from roaming. Everything was just so green! Whatever had happened was incredible to have placed him here!

He was following closely, but not too close, to Louise as she led him to the promised bath. The distance was due to the fact she'd said he reeked, which he likely did at that. Not that he could tell. Too much time in his own filth, he supposed. The smell had pretty much gone away for him after the first week out of the Vault.

Speaking of the little pink-haired girl, Wheatley cast an eye back over his shoulder. She seemed to be looking for a servant of some kind and he decided to ask a question, to get his bearings a bit more. "So Louise, what is this place? A magic academy?"

"You should know, you _are_ a noble." she said.

_"Where did she get that assumption?" _Wheatley thought. "A noble? Me?" He laughed a little. "I'm not a noble. I'm just a guy." Louise spun on her foot, confused.

"Then how did your sword light on fire?" she asked indignantly.

"Gasoline." He drew his Shishkebab and lit the flame. "Think of it as a semi-trick. It still on fire, but it ain't magic." Louise seemed to pale.

"Founder, I kissed a Commoner? I wasted my first kiss on a _Commoner_?" She proceeded to wipe her lips like she was trying to wash off a bad taste.

"Love you long time too, lady." Wheatley said with a frown. "And I believe you said something about a bath?" Louise stopped rubbing her mouth and glared up at him.

"Look here!" she hissed, "You're _my_ familiar! I give the orders to _you_!"

"I'm willing to stay," Wheatley said crossing his arms. "But that does not mean you order me around without reason. That said, I was rude. So I am sorry." Louise seemed somewhat mollified and turned to find a servant. She found one and yelled at her.

"Maid!" The servant in question seemed surprised by Louise's call and turned toward them, her eyes taking in Louise, then widening at the sight of Wheatley. She moved over "Yes?"

"Can you please take my familiar," if the maid was surprised by a human familiar she did not show it, "and take him to the servants' quarters for a bath."

"That is a bit irregular," before she could say another word the wind changed, and the reek of a man who had not taken a bath in months and fought all day in the hot sun washed over her.

"Yes-right-away-mistress!" she said quickly, holding her nose. Louise stomped away to her room, leaving the two commoners behind.

Wheatley watched her go before turning to the maid. "Name's Wheatley, lead on miss…?"

"Siesta." she said. "Come along then." The two walked down a path toward the small servant quarters.

"So Siesta, what's it like here?" Wheatley asked.

"It's quite nice. The work's not hard, though it is ongoing. It's a nice steady job."

"How's the food and water situation?" he asked. Siesta gave him an odd look.

"The food's nice, we often get the nobles leftovers, but why ask about the water? There's lots of it." Wheatley nodded, given how green everything was that was to be expected.

"Sorry; that's rarely been the rule of thumb back home." Siesta gave the odd man a look. Under all that filth was a hard man, and she had to shiver slightly at him. He was radiating that instinctive 'I'm a predator' vibe, and it put people on edge around him. He wasn't even trying. He just knew he could kill everyone in a room and go on with his life; and every one around him, his targets, knew it. Still, he had a nice smile and he seemed to be a nice person, if one capable of extreme violence. That settled her discomfort a little. The two of them entered the servant's quarters, at this time of day it was empty.

"Come on, and please don't touch anything." Wheatley nodded, everything was so clean! He was practically radioactive! On that thought he lifted his Pip-Boy and scanned his own physical condition. Radiation was low, but still he had his Pip-Boy administer some rad-away though his hand. He watched the ticker drop rapidly. Good.

Siesta opened a door and led him into a small bathroom with a wooden tub on the ground.

"One of the advantages of working in a magic school," Siesta said calmly as she work a knob, "hot running water." Turning to Wheatley she saw the look of just plain longing on his face. It may have been an incidental luxury to her but to him?

God help you if you got in his way.

"I'll just leave you alone." Siesta said for her own safety, and left the room leaving the former Vault dweller with hot water, something he hadn't had since he left the vault.

He reached down and picked up a bar of soap "Let see if I remember how use one of these things." A few hours, two water changes, and a bar of soap later he felt a sensation or he had not felt in a long time.

Clean.

Wheatley was drying off when Siesta came back holding a bundle of servants clothing. He quickly shifted the towel from his head to his hips. "I got you some clothing, sir. I think they will fit but I'm not sure."

"Just Wheatley, please, and thank you for the clothes," he said, extending his Pip-Boy then paused and just took the bundle one handed, pressing it to his chest. Siesta nodded and left, giving him some time to change. Not that that he needed any.

Now that he was alone he held his Pip-Boy up to the clothing and they started to glow. Shining a light blue, they flowed into his Pip-Boy storing its matter within his own body. He then started to tap a few buttons and summoned the uniform up again. His whole body glowed light blue as the clothing re-atomized around him. The whole thing took a half-second and he looked the clean clothing over. "Very good," he said to himself, and he could not help but smile at how clean it was. "I could get used to this."

The image of the Capital Wasteland appeared in front of him. The Enclave may be gone, clear water flowing though the Wasteland, the former slaves in charge of the Pitt, aliens gone, and Point Lookout... okay, that place sucked, but still... the Wasteland was his home. It needed him.

"I have to get back," he said, flexing a fist lightly then returned to his current situation. He opened the door and met Siesta, holding a small tray with some bread and water on it.

"I thought you might be hungry." Wheatley nodded and picked up one of the loaves.

What happened next was a half-minute of unimaginable violence against proper bread products everywhere. He tore into it like a wild animal expecting a bigger hunter to take it away from him. He was halfway though the loaf of bread when the taste hit him like a bullet to his brain pan.

He gave a moan of pleasure at the light, incredibly fluffy, warm bread.

When he finally swallowed the mouthful he was on, he took a pause from his consumption to comment, "This is the best thing I have ever eaten." Siesta smiled and blushed slightly.

"It just a plain loaf of bread."

"Beats Mirelurk cakes by a mile!" he said chewing slower and savoring every bite. Siesta nodded.

"And the Clothes? Do they fit?"

"Yes, and dear god you are a wonder woman!" He raised his arm looking at the sleeve talking around another mouthful of bread. "I have not felt this human since I left Vault 101!"

"Vault? You lived in a vault?" She asked confused.

"Well yeah," he said, swallowing his mouthful as he thought of how to phrase it.

"Why would anyone live in a vault?" she asked confused.

"Well, crap I don't think I've ever had to explain it," he thought about it. "Why do you put something in a normal vault?"

"To keep it safe," she said then the realization dawned on her. "So you lived in a vault to stay safe?"

"That's about the long and short of it," Wheatley said with a nod.

"So you lived in a vault to stay safe, safe from what?" Siesta asked and Wheatley was silent for a moment. "Armageddon." he said at last.

The two of them were silent. The answer was totally beyond Siesta's expectations and ability to comprehend. To her, the word Armageddon brought forth images of blowing trumpet, fluttering angel wings, and God's divine judgment falling upon the wicked - burning and scouring the earth clean.

She would never truly know just how close an atomic bomb was to that, save that it was far more indiscriminate.

The silence stretched until Wheatley broke it. "Do you know where Louise is? Now that I'm human again I should likely meet up with her." Siesta nodded and gave some instructions.

"By the way where did you put your old clothing?" She asked. Wheatley just smirked.

"I packed it up." Siesta looked him over; he had no place to put it. "Where?"

"A man has his secrets." The smirk grew deeper. Siesta noticed his sword was missing too, where had that gone? Her face lit into an iridescent blush as she thought of where it could have all gone. While she was looking him over wondering where the heck it had gone, Wheatley spoke. "It has been a pleasure miss Siesta. I hope to meet you again."

"It been a pleasure too, Mr. Wheatley." She smiled at the warm comment as Wheatley snagged a loaf of bread and left the servants' quarters.

Humming the tune of a song he had heard so often in the wastes it had embedded itself in the back of his skull, he moved though the massive stone building. He ran a hand along the stone walls. There was nothing like this in the capital wastes, nothing. More and more he was thinking this might just be magic after all. What did that mean? On some basic level the scientist in him rebelled at the idea.

The more practical part of himself reminded him that his DNA was zero point zero zero zero zero zero zero zero (Whatever! It was a really tiny friggin' number!) percent part giant fire breathing ant. Not even mentioning the things his Pip-Boy could do. Another question, would he tell any one that? He shelved that onto the need-to-know category.

It was late when he finally got to Louise's room and entered. The little pink-haired girl was waiting for him.

"Took you long enough."

"I may have overly lingered a bit with the bath." Wheatley said taking the last bite from the piece of bread he had taken with him. "I haven't been this clean in almost three months."

"You sure smelt like it," she said with a frown then pointed to a small bed of straw near the bed. "You sleep there." Wheatley looked at it, not as bad as some places he had slept before, but given that it was sitting next to a full blown mattress bed? (With springs!)

"Are there no mattresses left in the building?"

"There are none for familiars, like you." Wheatley huffed

"I understand you not being able to get a bed up here on such short notice. But in case you have not noticed, I am a human not an animal and few things enrage me," he reached into a pocket secretly atomizing a 10mm pistol and drew it out. "More then a slaver." He idly looked at before he slid it into a pocket.

"I am not a slaver!" Louise said sharply.

"And yet you say I can not have a mattress as I am a familiar." He crossed his arms, pushing his glasses up slightly. "So here's how this is going to work. I am going to sleep outside tonight and every night until you get a second mattress up here. Don't need a second bed, just a mattress."

"You're supposed to be my familiar!" she said, just about shouting. "And you will sleep here with me!"

"Well you know the conditions." Wheatley said smugly then looked at his Pip-Boy for the time. "I'll be heading out to find a place to sleep now."

"You can't go!" she said, now desperate.

"Watch me." He turned then before he left he threw a last word over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow. Good night, Louise." Closing the door behind him he left the room. Pulling his pistol back out he de-atomized it and watched the matter flow into his Pip-Boy. Clenching his hand at the tingling sensation he walked back down the stair way back out to the exit. Unfortunately he got lost and ended up have to ask directions.

"Excuse me," he asked a blonde male student and his brunette companion

"You're Louise's familiar," the blonde tried to sound bored but it came out more like sounding nervous. Given that the first thing he had done in this place was kill a Deathclaw, that was understandable.

Wheatley chuckled, "I'm not going to harm you. I just seem to be lost. What's the quickest way out side?"

"Is that why you've been wandering around for the last few minutes?"

"Yes," Wheatley said simply.

"Take a left then go straight ahead, down the first stair case on your right, can't miss it." Wheatley nodded.

"Thank you. I hope you two enjoy your evening." He made a motion of tipping his hat, if he had one, and went off the designated direction.

"He seems quite civil," the women said as she watched him leave.

"You should have seen him kill that dragon single-handed, with no more magic then a flaming sword." Guiche shivered. Colbert was still go gaga over it and was personally dissecting the 'Deathclaw'.

"But enough about him," Guiche said at last. "Let's talk about your eyes."

SHIFT

Wheatley finally made it outside taking a deep breath of the cool air. Unfortunately, he had missed sunset. Still, he had a sunrise to look forward to. His train of thought derailed as he gazed at the two moons high above.

"...Shit." Up till now the deepest part of his brain had refused to fully accept that he'd been moved to a new world, now though...

Shaking his head, Wheatley walked to an ornamental tree and de-atomized a sleeping bag and pillow. Using the tree to support his pillow, he lay down and looked at the pale moons for a while.

Before he went to sleep, Without Dogmeat, he would have to trust his Pip-Boy to wake him up if something went wrong. However, even with its long-range radar it was still somewhat buggy, and more then once he had found a Molerat almost munching on him.

Still, here under two moons, he felt safe enough to get some sleep.


	4. Breakfast

No matter the planet, sunrise was always impressive. The way the sun peeked over the horizon, piercing the clouds, scattering the mist. It was always worth waking up to. Wheatley stretched and atomized his sleeping bag as he turned his thoughts to breakfast.

He had some food on him; not much but enough to last till he could shoot some dinner. Problem was that his 'emergency stash' was all radioactive and he only had so much Rad-Away. He had no idea if the locals could cure radiation. As he thought about it, a chattering from above drew his attention. A squirrel! A fat one! Immediately though he rejected it as his mouth watered at the thought of yesterday's bread. He chuckled.

"How quickly one standards change," he said, eying the squirrel and standing up. "Let's go wake Pinky up." He marched off to find her room.

His eyes wandered as he tried to find a place in his experience that was close to this school. Nothing came close.

It was still early so he met few people as he scouted around. Having walked this way before he did not get lost and made good time.

SHIFT

Louise stared out the window thinking about him. She did not like to think of him _that_ way, but as her familiar. He was… hard. That was the only word for it. He had made a request - no, a demand - and followed though on it. Now she had no choice but to get a mattress up here. She'd rather have it get out that she spoiled her familiar then her familiar was disobedient.

Still, she had to track him down and let him know. A few things still had to be made clear. Nodding with her new found determination, she turned and opened the door, only to be confronted by-

"Kirche," she hissed. "What do you want?"

The red-haired girl looked over Louise's head. "I'm just curious. What's it like having your familiar killed before you could even complete the ritual?"

"Shut it, Kirche!" Louise snapped. Kirche continued blindly.

"I mean, summoning a commoner would have been bad enough, but you summoned an impressive dragon… only for it to be killed! That's low even for you."

"Shut it!" Louise balled her fists.

"Frankly, you guys should be thanking me." The two girls turned to face the man who wandered in as Wheatley strode between them. "Deathclaws are the meanest sons of bitches in the Wasteland, and if you see one you're dead, unless you've got good aim and a fast shot. The way I took out our friend was stupid and reckless." He crossed his arms as he determinedly kept the two from fighting with his own body.

Kirche looked Wheatley over, and dismissed him. _Cute, but I can do better_. She thought. Though how he dealt with the dragon was good, that's all he's got going for him. "So your names Wheatley, is it?" He nodded.

"Wheatley James, 101, Lone Wanderer, and a host of other names."

"I see," she said, unimpressed. Just then Wheatley caught the sight of this red skinned… thing!

"What's that?!" he said, backing up slightly and atomizing a ripper behind his back. Kirche looked bored between him and her familiar.

"That's my familiar, Flame. I'm not surprised you've never seen a fire salamander. They're quite rare, and only the very best mages can summon them."

Wheatley looked at the lizard… thing. "If you say so."

"Wait, you're holding something behind your back." Louise noticed and almost sheepishly he showed her his ripper.

It was the oddest knife they could imagine. Bladed teeth on two sides and a really large hilt.

"What kind of blade is that?" Kirche asked. In answer he turned it on, the engine now hummed lightly and the teeth slowly spun.

"One that bites by itself," he said looking at them. He turned it off and slid it back into his belt. "I came to find you, Louise. Know where a guy can find some food?"

"Of course, follow me." The young pink-haired girl walked toward the kitchen, the Wasteland Messiah close behind.

SHIFT

Said Wasteland Messiah was just about stomping from the cafeteria not less then a half hour latter.

"Eat on the floor," he huffed. Not that he had a problem with it, the problem was that everyone else did not! Granted he was dressed like a servant, and it made sense that servants would eat separately since they were the ones making the breakfast. But still – the floor?!

Well if it was any consolation to himself he had stolen her pie. The child at heart part of him snickered at the petty revenge. She'd be spending hours wondering why her food never arrived since he'd intercepted it before it had gotten close to her. Attacking the pie with a fork, he enjoyed every bite as he walked and munched at the same time. In a more sparsely populated section of the school grounds he sat down and really got to eating. Less then two enjoyable minutes latter he was down a pie, and up one full stomach.

He eyed the plate, what to do with it? Atomizing it in public was not an option.

"May I take that sir?" On cue a maid had arrived to take it, holding a cake in the other hand. Not just any maid, though.

"Siesta." He said with a smile of recognition.

"Wheatley? I thought you would be with Louise," she said, putting 101 back into his funk.

"Little pinky wanted me to eat on the floor. I need to have some choice words with her over this relationship." He glowered silently in his corner of metaphorical darkness.

"Don't do that!" Siesta said and Wheatley looked to her for the reason. "A commoner, which you've told me you are, has no chance against a noble. You would get killed if you pushed the issue. Even Miss Vallière could do serious damage." Wheatley scoffed.

"Don't worry about me. Not only have I been overthrowing tyranny since I started wandering, I'm also-" Here he paused. He would have said "packing heat," but what did "heat" mean in this world?

"Do you know what a gun is?"

"A gun?" Siesta sat down across from him, all thought of taking the pie plate way lost. "Yes of course. Why do you ask?"

"I wasn't sure. Tell me if any of these words mean anything to you: revolver? Rifling? Cartridges?" Her look of confusion answered him.

"Oh, so all you've got are muzzle loaders?" She looked confused by his line of questioning and his sudden smug look.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, just figuring that I have an advantage like no other." He smirked.

Siesta was silent then spoke. "Sir you-" Before she could speak, she was interrupted.

"Hey, you two!" They both turned to see a blond-haired boy and some other girl. "Talk on your own time."

"Sorry sir!" Siesta yelled over and stood up and scampered over. Wheatley watched from his seat.

"That's better," the blond boy said. "Next time talk on your own time."

"Sorry sir it won't happen again," she said nervously.

"It better not. Now go get us some more tea." His voice just oozed arrogance and pride, the shameful kind. Siesta scuttled off like a roach with the light turned on. Wheatley stood up and intercepted her.

"Is that guy always a jerk?"

Siesta, not pausing, nodded. "Most nobles are like Guiche," and then she scuttled away. Wheatley turned to face the two of them. His temperamental, vindictive, almost petty side was coming on hard. When that side crossed with his moral side the results tended to end… interestingly. Cross that with how he protected his friends and his general hatred of bullies...

God help you.

The two were chatting.

"You know, I've heard rumors you been going out with a first year." Guiche shook his head.

"I would never lie to such wonderful eyes, Montmorency. You are the only one for me." Oh, and this guy was a two-timer as well. Was God giving him someone who was pushing every one of his buttons at once?

"Excuse me," Wheatley interrupted. "How do you determine a first year from a second or third?"

The two looked confused and then Guiche blanched as he realized what he was about to do.

"Umm..." The image of how this man dealt with that dragon thing shut the words off. How does one deal with a noble about to screw you over five different ways?

"Why? You've seen him?" Montmorency said with a hard look, the frog on her shoulder puffing up in a reflection of her hostility.

"Depends, do first years have brown cloaks? If so, then yes." He shot a gaze around. "Her in fact." He pointed to a girl walking up with a picnic basket. Montmorency was shooting Guiche poisoned looks and Guiche was getting paler.

Now satisfied, Wheatley walked off and sat down on a chair, watching the fireworks unfold. The two girls tag-teaming him so fast he couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"What's going on?" Siesta asked as she came back bearing a tray with tea on it.

"Not much." Wheatley said, taking one of the cups. "Just a man getting what he deserves. I recommend you keep your distance until its all over." He sipped lightly as the two girls reached the crescendo of there argument ending with two vicious slaps across each cheek and stomped away in different directions.

In the center of a circle of jeering students, Guiche had eyes only for the one who had started it.

"You! How…how dare you!" he said standing back up anger flaring in his eyes.

"How dare I?" Wheatley said back. "I was not the fool to date two girls at once." The American slang went over there head but the context made sense. "How very self righteous of you."

"You have insulted my honor today," Guiche hissed. "As a fellow noble-" Wheatley cut him off.

"Oh, I'm not a noble." Gasps went around the circle of students. He took another sip of the tea, the perfect image of calmness in a storm of growing outrage. "Back home I was important, but no noble." Guiche smirked.

"So then you're just a peasant. Well then, I demand you apologize to me!"

"Why? Once again, I was not the one who dated two girls at once. If anything you acted dishonorably." Wheatley eyed the growing circle of people backing away from the two as if they expected a fight.

He lazily checked his Pip-Boy's hot keys; everything was still ready.

"If you refuse to apologize then challenge you to a duel!" the blond noble yelled proudly.

Wheatley took a critical glance at the boy who stood before him.

"No."


	5. Duel

**_New chapter, not much else to say other then this is the duel chapter, with a surprise end._**

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><p>Guiche blinked at the unexpected answer.<p>

"what?"

"I said no. Your just a bully and a two timer. One thing to expose that, another to beat you senseless." Wheatley took another sip of, technically Montmorencys, tea, "your not worth it." he said with a shrug.

"I am a noble I demand satisfaction!" Guiche yelled and Wheatley frowned back. "ya well I want Nuke-a-cola rather then this tea." he gestured with the cup and finished it off.

"But we can't have what we want." he stood up, to any one paying attention the chair groaned like a great weight had been taken off it, but no one did.  
>"Good bye Guiche." and with that Wheatley turned around and walked away. Leaving Guiche to smolder, though not for long.<p>

SHIFT

Louise was thrumming her fingers against the table in no small frustration.

"When will that pie get here?" she muttered, punctuated by a growl from her stomach.

"Miss Louise!" she turned to face a panting maid.

"What?" she said sharply, her normal temper accented by hunger.

"Its your familiar hes getting in a fight with a noble!"

"What!" Louise said her hunger forgotten and stood up, almost knocking the chair over. "Lead me to that moron!" she hissed and the two charged though the hall ways and out into the mid morning sun.

SHIFT

"Insolent commoner!" Guiche yelled and with a wave of his wand a brass Valkyrie was summoned.

At this cry Wheatley spun around and saw the incoming golem .

He tapped three hot keys on his pipboy and summoned up his armaments.

Just then Louise pushed though the crowd and was about to interpose her self in the fight, Wheatley pip boy came to life.

Matter flowed from the screen in a river of blue light that enveloped his body completely. In moments the light collapsed and around his body the white form of the winterized T-51b power armor.

Light flowed around his right arm and the long form of his Shishkebab, in his left hand held in a reverse grip a Ripper.

Before the crowd had time to be awed by the highly impressive armor he was in motion.

The flaming sword snaked round, deflected the golem's spear, and coming in a swipe that slashed a gash in its chest.

The pile of ruined brass fell around his feet. The blank glare that only a face behind a power armor helmet could pull off fell on Guiche who had only begun to realize what he had gotten into.

"Now, its on." he said simply and throttled his Ripper so it spat a cloud of dim black smoke and so it screamed like a angry hog.

Panicked Guiche summoned up more golems and sent them forward.

In the crowd every student watched as Wheatley flared to life, unknown to all under his pipboy runes glowed.

"Well, well, well." Kirche said as she watched the fight. "I do believe I may have been wrong about him. Hes just full of surprises. Right Tabitha." she said looking at the blue haired girl to her side who was watching with if possible keener interest.

"Unknown magic." she said simply. "no know spell summons matter that way." Kirche smiled a little wider.

"Even more interesting."

Wheatley mean while was fighting 12 to one odds. His blade was a blur of embers and the reek of gasoline as he blocked, dodged, and stabbed his targets. The ripper in his other hand roared as it cut though brass shooting sparks like a fire spell.

Though out the ring of metal on metal the occasional limb went flying as he slashed though metal shoulder pads cut armor chests open.

Four down he backed up, blade out, ready to deflect any blow. One came.

Spear swinging at him like a axe his sword rose up, the shaft ran across the flaming blade spraying globs of burning fluid. Pushing the spear away he drove his sword into its chest where the heart would be and pulled back sending shards of broken metal flying.

"who's next!" he said and two golems answered him.

Sword up he deflect the first blow and then smashed his blade into its neck in a cut that should have bisected it.

Should have, as the blade, which was a glorified lawn mower blade, shattered on the brass armor.

In surprise he back up, only to find a golem slam its spear into his shoulder armor, armor built to fight the red Chinese army that uses assault rifles and frag grenades.

The spear only left a glancing scratch. Tossing the still roaring ripper to his right hand he drove it into the golems ear and with a twisting motion, its head exploded under the forces.

Quickly he atomized his ripper and pushed hot key one. Once more blue light flowed from his pip boys screen and the hunting rifle Ol' Painless emerged in both hands.

Five rounds, five golems.

This would be quick.

Rapidly he fell to a kneeling position and took aim. The students were surprised. A Arquebus was a step down from a a spinning bladed knife.

How wrong they were.

With a motion well practiced he engaged VATS and the world stood still. He took aim and fired.

To a outside observer his gun roared, then his hand a blur, he did something to the stock with rapid mechanical clicking, and he fired again.

Before the first golem had finished slumping, its head blown apart, the second joined it, then a third, a fourth, then the fifth.

It had taken less then six seconds.

"impossible!" some one shouted. "Theres no way a gun can be fired that rapidly!" And he was right, if you spoke only of muzzle loaders.

Not paying attention to the minor up roar Wheatley loaded another five round stripper clip into his rifle and stood up approaching the now golemless Guiche who began to rapidly back peddle away.

At last he tripped and was on his back starring up the barrel of the rifle.

Not that he was in danger, yet. Wheatley had not even chambered the first round in rifle. That could easily change though.

"So, Guiche. I believe it is you who owe me a apology." the deep gravely voice that came from one in power armor shock him to his core, though it was still mostly the rifle that did it.

"I,I,I,I" his head then slumped, being at gun point was a hell of a motivator"I Guiche de Gramont do apologize to,," he realized he did not know his full name.

"Names Wheatley, James. Though in this armor my name and rank would be Paladin James." he had brought the rank out to see him squirm, and it worked. He paled even more as the knowledge that he had picked a fight with a knight worked though his head. He quick started over.

"I Guiche de Gramont do apologize to, Paladin," he chocked the word out. "Wheatley James." for a second there was no movement. Then Wheatley atomized Ol' Painless the gun glowing blue and turning into a river of light the flowed into his pip-boy's screen followed shortly by his armor every plate, bolt and weld flowing into his pipboy. Leaving him the servant outfit.

For a moment he held the pose like he still had his hand clenched around the trigger of his rifle. Then he leaded a little closer his hand extended to help him up.

Guiche took it and when he was standing tried to let go, only to find Wheatley had not yet let go and suddenly pulled him closer so the two were almost a nose length apart.

"Your forgiven, Mr. Gramont. Don't do it again though. Kapeesh?"

"ya, ya I, kapeesh." Guiche said his accent mutilating the English Italian loan word.

"good." he said almost sweetly and let go making him stumble back again.

He turned and spotted a familiar mess of pink curls.

"You want to know what I just did don't ya?"

SHIFT

"Your damn right! I want to know!" Louise yelled.  
>They were back in her room and Wheatley was under the stare of Louise interrogation.<p>

He raised his pipboy mollifingly, "Its my pip boy. It can atomize and de atomize matter. The way it does it would take books to explain but it in essence compacts mater, which is 90% empty space, and stores it with in my own matter, which is 90% empty space and allows me to carry almost, 250 pounds of stuff. As a side effect I weigh 250 pounds more, and after a I store enough weight I can't really move.

"That's a lot of weight." Louise commented.

"I get a lot of exercise just moving with all this stuff in me." he shrugged.

"so what do you have in there?" Louise said and Wheatley coughed.

"umm, I'm not 100% sure." at Louise withering glare he rebounded.

"I just tend to atomize stuff I find until I get too heavy then I really look though it." he then pushed a few buttons on his pipboy.

"I'll use the emergence eject function on my weapon tab. Stand by, this room will be filled with high caliber death in moments." at a final button push his pipboy glowed and light flowed from his pipboy landing just in front of him and then spilling out.

With eyes as wide as saucers she watched as almost countless gun, pistols and things she had no name for filled the floor of her room.

When it was down the small pile of gun was impressive.

"wow." she said. Then pointed to the oddest thing. "Whats that?"

Wheatley picked it up and spun it over his shoulder. "Tesla cannon. In blunt, it shoots lighting bolts."

Louise already wide eyes went wider. "Lighting is a triangle class spell! And you have a gun that shoots it like bullets?"

"Pretty much." he said atomizing the large weapon he then picked up a mutli barrel weapon off the floor. "This here is a Gatling gun shoots 5mm rounds at almost 20 bullets a second." at her stunned look he atomized it and turned to the rest of the pile.

"As I'm sure you've noticed most of these weapons will chew though even a mage like butter." he picked up the Xuanlong assault rifle. "This alone is 36 rounds of rapid fire death in one package. Can magic save you from that?"

Louise picking up the implied insult to nobility rose to its defense.

"Yes that thing would be no trouble to even a line class mage."

"yes, but I can make ten thousand of these." he said lifting it up. "In less then a week with a good enough production facility, can you beat that?" silence.

In that moment a specter of premonition flashed though Louise. She was staring into the death of her culture, her way of life, a way that would be changed to be unrecognizable before her life time was up.

She shook it away her disdain for peasant weapons coming back.

"I noticed you sword broke in the fight." she said going on a different tangent. Wheatley shrugged and proceed to atomize every weapon on the floor back into his pipboy.

"I suppose. I generally like my guns more but I always keep a back up for close quarters."

"Well we need to get you another."

"So what, we wait for a trader to show up?" Wheatley said trying to impose his own experiences from the capital waste land onto this new world.

"Of course not." she scoffed "were go to town." Wheatley tried to put that in context. He got no were. Rivet city was already smaller then this place, a town?

It dwarfed him.

"Ok. When?"

"Tomorrow is void day we can go then." Wheatley nodded.

"On a related note did you get around to getting a mattress up here?"

Louise nodded. "Its in the servant's quarters your have to bring it up your self." at his hard look she quick said. "I'm a young women! You surely stronger then me!" Wheatley nodded and left the room to fetch it.

SHIFT

He was cutting though the hall ways, drawing looks from every student as the adage, the only thing that spreads faster then fleas were rumors, proved true again.

He was enjoying the image of himself sleeping a mattress that was not, A 200 years old, B filled with fleas, C soaked with blood sweat and other, less noble excrements, when a soft, sad voice drew his full and undivided attention.

"You lied to me." he spun on the ball of his feet to face the sad face of Siesta.

"You said you were a commoner, one of us, but it was just a lie." she seemed on the edge of tears at the betrayal.

"Its not." Wheatley countered "I am a commoner, not a drop of noble blood, back home, we were a republic!"

"You lie!" she said sharply. "Your a Paladin, a noble knight! A mage to make your weapons appear! You lied about your sword too, to toy with me!" she did not lean closer to make the point her next point, at the end of the day she was a commoner, and she thought he was a mage.

"I don't want to see you again." she spun around and huffed off. Leaving Wheatley behind.

The snickers from behind him drew his attention, he atomized a ripper and loudly throttled it. The snickers stopped.

Less pleasantly he walked off to get his mattress, getting hard looks from the servants, and fearful ones from the nobles.


	6. Shoping

**_I'm on a roll! chapter five or six depending how you count it. _**  
><strong><em>let me know what ya guys think?<em>**

* * *

><p>The next morning a decidedly less happy then he would have normally been Wheatley was watching Louise bring over two horses.<p>

"You know how to ride?" she asked.

"Two problems with that." he said. "One, I don't Horse's are extinct back in the capital wasteland."

"What does, extinct mean?" she asked.

"It means there all dead, no more horses on the whole planet for all I know." instinctively Louise, the horse lover, crowed a little closer to the animal. The idea of no more horses, on a whole planet?

"How that happen?" she asked and Wheatley shrugged.

"Hard to explain, to put it simply there was once a great war and we destroyed the planet." at her very confused expression he replied. "I once had a good explanation given to me he in history class but I need a prop for it. In any case the second problem with me riding a horse is I weight some 400 pounds. I'd break it's back and quite frankly I don't want to leave any of my gear laying around."

"You could ask to leave it in the vault." She said.

"How far is it to the capital?" Wheatley asked at last.

"About 16 miles." Wheatley scoffed.

"Forget the horse. Were walk it." at her pained expression he answer. "I'm not called the Lone Wanderer for no reason we hike it spend are day and then walk back."

"And if its dark?" she asked. Wheatley merely turned on his Pip boys light. "I've spent many a night walking under the stars. On a well tended road it will be child's play."

"If I walked that much I'd get blisters." Louise countered.

"So did I. I could give you night mares about the blood stumps my feet were after my first week, and don't get me started on how many bear traps I've walked into."

"That could not have been good for you feet." she commented and Wheatley absently looked at his boots.

"I frankly can't feel anything form the ankle down." Louise nodded and handed the reigns of her horse to him.

"If your going to walk I'll take this other one back, try not to scare him off." and with that she left leading the other horse off.

Leaving Wheatley alone with a animal that could smell the amount of blood on his hands. For his part Wheatley spend the time imagining just what the horse would taste like.

Louise came back to see the two of them glaring at each other.

"What now?" She said.

"I don't like animals save dogs." Wheatley said back. "And they don't like me." the horse tried to bite him and he backed off Louise quick taking the loose reigns and glaring at the wanderer. "I say we just eat him." Louise was just about horrified.

"Fine then." Wheatley scoffed. Louise got on the horse and the two were off at a walk toward the capital.

From a window a red headed girl watched the two of them leave.

"If that prissy de Vallière thinks she can entice that man with a shopping trip, she got another thing coming." Kirche nodded at her plan and just about thundered off to convince Tabitha to give her a dragon born lift.

SHIFT

Ever since the summing this was Louise first chance to ask Wheatley about his world a little and with all the tid bits he had been dropping she was curious.

"So whats you home like?"

"Well, nominally speaking I'm a resident of Megaton though I often wander the wastes."

"Megaton?" she asked. "Why name you city after a messuerment of weight?"

"Its not a measurement of weight." he said softer. "what the biggest explosion you can imagine?" she thought about it.

"Well the Founder was said to have created some large ones. He destroyed more then one castle that way."

"Sounds like a walking nuke." he lifted his pipboy, tapped a few buttons and a small foot ball size object materialized in his hands.

"This is a mini nuke, this here can easily destroy a building with one shot." Louise eyed the thing suspiciously, she did not believe him. "Megaton was built around a actual nuke that, in its hay day could have gone off with almost 20 megatons, hence the name, of TNT."

"TNT?" she asked she still did not believe him.

"A explosive, much more powerful then gun powder. Get enough of it together and you won't just change history, your change the geography."

"humm," she said "I don't believe you."

"ya well, I both don't have the launcher to prove to you what this little sucker can do, nor the nukes to spare." he atomized the offending mini nuke.

"Believe it or not we destroyed are world with those things." it took a second for the words to registered.

"Destroy the world? How do you destroy a whole world?"

"Get enough bombs together and lunch them. Remember those nukes? Not only do they blow up with enough force to wipe out a city they posion the land for thousand of years so nothing can live there. You don't get a title like 'the wasteland' for nothing."

"If its poison how do you live?"

"Notice I did not say anything about the life span and Radiation has more effects." he said darkly.

Then a shadow fell over them. Looking up Wheatley yipped and de-atomized his power armor and Gauss rifle. This scared the horse and it reared up.

"What is it?" she yelled as she tried to bring her horse back under control. She looked up.

"don't shoot! It's Tabitha's dragon!"

He paused as he tracked the blue lizard across the sky. "your sure? No, check that I see people on it."

"how can you tell?" she asked once she got the horse under control. Wordlessly he handed her the rifle pantomimed looking though the scope. As the dragon landed near by she held the scope to her eye.

Took her a few moments to get used to it then she was impressed. "A telescope on a rifle how ingenious."

Meanwhile a Kirche called down from her seat.

"well hello we saw you going to town and we thought we give you a lift sweetie."

"Unless your dragon can lift over 400 pounds of man, metal and munitions we are not going get any ware save by walking."

"400 pounds?" Kriche was stunned by the number rapidly rethinking the idea of sleeping with him.

"When I atomize something the weight does not go away." at that his power armor glowed and flowed back into his pipboy.

Louise put the Gauss rifle on her lap. "and what do you want?" she said darkly.

"Why I just want to get know this interesting person." she said saddling a little too close to Wheatley for his favor. It was like Clover all over again.

"That a lie you Germania whore you just want to sleep with my familiar!" in anger she slapped her hands on her lap, forgetting about the rifle which fired with a blaring thunder clap.

The horse reared in shock and she was knocked clean off and was barely caught by one of Tabitha's levitation spells.

"Be careful!" Wheatley hissed grabbing the rifle from the floating girl. "not only are Micro fusion cells impossible for me to remake here, you could have killed some one." he pointed at a tree in anger and three pairs of eye's turned to the sight of a almost two foot diameter hole blown though the trunk.

"Your weapon did that?" Kriche said shocked even Tabitha was impressed and she had seen it all even over the pages of her book.

"yes, and my Gauss rifle is especially lethal." he drew a microfusion cell out and slid a new one in place atomizing the old one rather then letting it fall to the ground.

"That thing could keep three people at once!" Kriche said, a shiver went though her, even Louise the zero could do that with that weapon. A commoner with that?

He then atomize the rifle in question. "My record is four slavers, though they did line up for me. Once got two super mutants at once, went though the first ones skull and smacked the next ones arm off."

"What is a supper mutant? and can I stop floating!" Louise said.

"skip it, it too hard to explain." he said tired of not being believed. Louise thumped to the ground lightly as the spell wore off.

"So how we going to get into town now?" Louise asked rubbing sand off her skirt.

"We walk. Dur." Wheatley said. Louise looked at Kriche and Wheatley noticed the venom between the two.

"This is going to be a long trip isn't it?"

SHIFT

It was. But the city was almost worth it.

Never in his whole life, was there this many people in one place!  
>Check that, never in the whole wasteland were there this many people in one place!<p>

Wheatley eyes roamed the whole city in awe drinking the sights, sounds, smells, everything. Shops line the street and the colorful signs meant event the local illiterate 101 could find his way around.

"I bet they never have city's like this back home." Louise said smugly. "I mean Tristania is the cultural capital of the whole continent."

"Makes Rivet city looks like village." he said at last as he watched some street jugglers. "Much less Megaton. Only thing worth seeing there is the Church of Atom." and don't even get him started on the Republican of Dave's 'Tourism Office'.

Kriche interrupted "Its quint, but Germania has bigger citys ." Wheatley eyes trained on her.

"Bigger? Damn. I, I, just can't wrap my head around that." Louise shot him a evil glare accented by the blisters on her feet.

"Lets just get that damn sword then I go back and give me feet a soak." unlike Kriche and Tabitha she had refused to ride on the dragon and had instead toughed it out with her familiar rather then be weak like that Germanian she hated so much.

"Fine by me." Wheatley turned to the two following him. "you two can come along if you want." then to Louise. "lead on." the pink haired girl nodded and lead the group skillfuly though the crowded streets.

Along the way they lost Tabitha and Kriche, which was just fine with Louise.

The bell to the weapon shop tinkled as they came in. unlike the rest of the city Wheatley was unimpressed with the selection of weapons, he really was a gun guy.

Still he need a sword so he began to look though the weapon racks his pipboy blinking as it scanned each weapon in turn.

Louise meanwhile walked up to the shop keeper. "I want the best sword you have." she said at last. He nodded and went to the back of the shop.

"I wouldn't bother." Wheatley said. "we need something functional not expensive." he drew a sword with a odd cross guard and bounced it on his palm.

"This one will do." he said twirling it though a few forms. The shop keeper came back quickly.

"I have just the thing!" he drop the sword on the table and Wheatley had to whistle at it.

"A sword made by a master Germania mage smith!"

Wheatley waved his pip boy over it, and frowned. "fake." he said at last.

"What!" the shop keeper said with outrage.

"Well, it may be real but even so its not a real sword. This thing a fall apart at the seems with the third swing."

He put the sword he had picked out on the table. "how much for this one?"

"300." he said anxiously, like he wanted it gone. Wheatley looked at Louise, who was his money supply.

"Fair enough." she put the money on the table and with a nod Wheatley atomized the sword. He looked around confused.

"Did you hear something?"

"Like what?" Louise said.

"I don't know, a scream?"

"You imagined it. Come on lets get out of here, my poor feet need hot water." and with that two of them left the shop.

Shortly there after a second pair of girls entered.

"Hello there." the red head said, "I would like to buy a sword." she said with a evil smile.


	7. Photo

_**new chapter, not of exposition this chapter. Let me know what you think, I'm a bit on the wall about parts of this chapter.**_

* * *

><p>Lousie almost moaned as the hot water soaked her feet to the core. The relief felt so good it made getting the blisters good in the first place.<p>

No,no, that! Never that! Her mind instantly rebelled at the thought.

"How they coming along?" Wheatley asked he was sitting at her desk as she slumped on her bed soaking her feet. Said he had to work on his guns.

All she knew was that he had a tube of lard, some rather interesting tools and sheer skill.

"Much better." she said leaning back.

"Next time were going into town were going to get you a proper set of boots."

"Next time we go into town, I'm not scaring the horse off."

There was knock at the door and Wheatley called out.

"It's open." Louise snapped.

"What do you mean leaving the door unlocked!" to answer her he had a .44 magnum in his left hand in a second.

"Most powerful hand gun in the world." he said with a flourish he put it back on the table as Kriche entered.

"What do you want." Louise smoldered. "I just came to help you familiar out of course." she said overly sweetly.

"I have a name you know." Wheatley said as started connected a pair of wires and his minigun, Eugene began to spin up and draw every one attention before he let it wind down.

"Right, so sorry Wheatley." she said.

"No problem." he spun around to face her. "So what is it? A stash of black powder or something?"

"No silly, I would never be so crass to as to get you a peasant weapon."

"Ya well, it would gum my guns up like you have no idea." he said with a shrug.

"So what is it?" she smiled and brought the fancy sword they had turned down at the weapon shop. "A weapon far more expensive than anything your 'master' could buy you.

Louise ended up laughing.

"What is it pinky?" she said sharply.

"He turned said it was worthless." Kirche eye brows crawled up her head in surprise and turned to Wheatley for confirmation.

"Yup. My pipboy has a scanner on that lets me know how strong a weapon is, also how healthy food is and what effect drugs would have on me. In any case that thing's no good." he held the sword one handed.

"As compared." he pushed a hot key on his pipboy and the sword they did buy de-atomized into his grip. "to this," he was going to say more when a voice from no were began to scream at him.

"DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN!" He almost dropped the sword in surprise. He then looked closer at the cross guard in the insuring silence, not even Kirche said anything.

"Umm, did you just,,?"

"Talk?" the sword said with a rattle of its cross guard. "No, the red head has mastered the art of throwing her voice. OF COURSE I JUST TALKED!"

"O and I, atomized you,," Wheatly said figuring he had just taken a sentient being apart atom by atom. "oops?" he said apologetic. "that must have hurt."

"No kid it felt like a trip to the spa, where they give you messages and put the little slices of cucumber over your eyes. OF COURSE IT HURT! I did not even know I could feel pain before you did what every the hell you just did!"

"Sorry, I had no idea you could talk before I, err bought you?"

_"Does this count as slavery?"_ he asked himself with a frown.

"ya well my chattyness has warded off more than one customer before and let me tell you I've been in the barrel too long to care who bought me."

"I, err see." Wheatley said at last then shifted tract away from the uncomfortable topic.

"Do you have a name?"

"Derflinger." it said. "And let me tell you if you ever do that again we will have some choice words let me tell you!" Wheatley nodded nervously. The last thing he wanted was to piss a weapon he would need at some point in the future off.

Wheatley propped Derflinger against a table and proceeded to rapidly put the mini-gun back together. Locking the last piece in he then atomized it, then summoned up some WD-45 and steel wool.

"Still, let me make it up to you." He said and proceeded to start to attack the rust stains.

While the two had been talking Louise and Kirche had been silent. Then Louise spoke. "Do you have anything else to do in here?"

Kirche made a over exaggerated show of thinking. "not really, no I suppose."

"Then get out of my room!" she yelled standing up, and wincing as she stomped on one of her blisters .

Kirche shrugged "fell free to keep the sword, not like I need it." she said as she left closing the door behind her

Louise sat back down heavily.

"I hate that hussy." she huffed.

"What is your problem with her any way?" Wheatley asked.

"It not just her." Louise leaned back on her bed. "The Vallière's, my family, and the Zerbst, her family, has a rivalry going back century's."

"Sounds a bit like Butch and me." Wheatley said.

"You had a rivalry back home too?" she asked.

"No, no." he said. "I gave up my petty, childish rivalry when I left the vault, now all I had left was a list of target and a hammer to beat them down."

"Sounds hard." Louise said sadly.

"Not so bad when you have friends." he de atomized a photo and handed it to her. "My, well, they fell more like my Brothers and sisters."

She took it and looked at it.

The first thing that struck her was the fact they all had armor similar if not the same as Wheatley's, though they had forgone the helmet for the, she wanted to say painting but that just did not fit with what she was looking at."

"what is this?"

"A photograph, for the history books the scribe said," he scoffed, "not like we always wear that armor though."

Louise nodded content with it being an odd form of magic. She next noticed the faces.

In the center was Wheatley, kneeling down he was putting his hand on the nape of a dogs neck. The dog itself was laying down and seemed to be napping.

To his right a lady with a white lock of hair over half her head and an odd neck band around it.

"Who's this?" she pointed to her. Wheatley winced.

"A old festering wound on my conscious." He said. "That's Clover and, technically she a slave." Louise looked at him confused. "She's been brain washed. I have tried every trick in the book and then some for her to get it that she was free I once told her out right I didn't want her and she belonged to no one anymore."

"What happened."

"She just about starved herself to death over the rejection and I had to take her back and I've killed to many former slaves getting those damn collars off to risk it."

"Collars?" she asked and looked closer at the thing around her neck. "ya, I could, if I wanted to," he de-atomized a small device with a button on it, "blow it up killing her in a second. The only reason I keep this thing with me is so no one else finds it and wonders, what does this button, pushes it and kills her."

Louise looked back at Clover and shivered at the abject cruelty it would take to do that. "God, I,I, would never, I can't image anyone doing that."

"You be surprised you danced pretty close to the edge if I had not put my foot down." he guested to his mattress, and the pile of hay that used to be there. Louise shivered and went back to the photo.

To Clover right was black haired man with some kind of lubricant in his hair. "And him?"

"Butch the barber." he said with a chuckle. "He was my rival back in the vault but I out grew it and he follows me around. Still insists he's the leader of the 'tunnel snakes gang'." he put up finger quotes.

"Hay buddy, less talking more polishing." Derflinger said.

"Sorry." he went back to cleaning. "But really? He scared of the wasteland the raiders, slavers, supper mutants? He follows me around because I know what the hell I am doing."

Louise went back to the photo. Beside Butch looking like he could care less was a man in a cow boy hat. She asked about him.

"Jericho. Hes a bastard. He used to be a raider; he used to be, well evil."

"Evil?" she asked.

"Murdering, torturing, raping, drugging, all for kicks." at Louise horror he sighed "there too many of those freaks out there all of them killing people. But Jericho? He retired if you can believe it. He taught me 1/4 of everything I know, how to clean a gun, how to aim, and to fire a full auto weapon without being a bad shot by the fourth bullet."

"Why did he follow you?" she asked horrified by such a life.

"Things blow up around me." I said. "And I kill a lot of people." Louise looked back at the man and her eye strayed right.

"Is that a bugbear?" she asked. "No it has arms."

"That is Sergeant RL-3 finest drill officer in the United States Army." Wheatley chuckled "I don't travel much with him. He tends to stay in the Citadel drilling Brotherhood of steel initiates. Officer bucket they call him. He was having the time of his life."

She nodded and looked at, it.

"What is he?"

"He is a robot. Think of him like a golem made by commoners that can make decisions and be rational." Louise eyes went wide and glanced at the, robot. She did not know how that was possible.

To Wheatley left was, he looked like a man, but his skin was peeled off and his nose was gone.

"Who's that?" she asked.

"Charon. Hes a Ghoul. Perfectly fine if you ignore how he looks, and please don't ask him to cook he gets flanks of skin in everything blech."

"How that happen?" She asked

"A ungodly amount of radiation, a sort of poison made by atomic bombs that changed him from human to that. It's not all bad though, I've know ghouls who are over 200 years old." her eyes went wide at that fact.

To Charon's right was a women with a short crop of hair. "Before you ask the women to Charon's left is Star Paladin Cross. Technically that makes her my superior in the brother hood of steel."

"Your knightly order?" she asked.

"Just about." she looked into Cross face before moving to the last one.

He was huge! His skin was a dull yellow and the torn out fit of some kind was around his shoulder.

"That's Fawkes he's a super mutant."

"You mentioned them earlier." she said

"Yes super mutants are humans who have been turned into, that." she looked more closely, that thing had once been human? "In the process most mutants loose there mind and go insane and are hostile and should be put down. Or they will kill anyone around them and turn them into more Super mutants."

Louise took a look at the odd group, a wide spectrum of his world. Then saw the back ground and gasped.

The picture had been taken on the steps of the Citadel with the whole of DC as a back ground. The ruined city loomed like a ruin of black iron sky scrapers and tall rusting buildings.

"My god! Is that you home?" she pointed to the city. Wheatley sighed.

"That is what atomic war does to your home. And no. those ruins were over 200 years old when that picture was taken." he took the photo and atomized it.

"And that's my world."

"What happened to them when you gone." she said softly.

"Well Jacobs dead died soon after that photo was taken in fact. He was well over 60 and spent a little too much time raiding. He died as he lived, gunning people down lucky they were the right people that time. Cross would stay at the Citadel. Clover contract would pass to Fawkes as he's one of the few people I trust not to abuse her, Butch would likely follow them around. He always did have a crush on Clover." he chuckled at some memory. "Charon would likely head back to Underworld, or maybe join the Brotherhood proper. Dogmeat?"

"Your named you dog dogmeat?"

"No, that just the name he had on his tags when I found him." he said a little guilty. "Any way Dog meat, I have no idea. Probably walk the wastes till he found a new master. I have no idea how old he was, really."

Louise yawned.

"ya I'm tired too." Wheatley said and he looked at Derflinger. "I'll have to let the stuff sit over night then I can really clean that rust off."

"Fine by me." the sword rattled and with a snap of his fingers Wheatley turned the magic lights went out and the two quickly went to bed.

That night Louise had an uneasy sleep.

In her dream she was chased by men, sometimes ghouls, sometimes super mutants, sometimes mages, with clubs, a collar of iron wrapped tightly around her throat making it hard to breath, eat, or drink.

The land was barren dry, hard and cut her bare feet as she ran leaving tracks of blood.

At long last she could go no further and collapsed in some kind of building that reeked of hot iron, sweat, and death.

One of the men walked up bouncing his club, now a sword, now whip, in his hand. A wicked leer on his face.

"I'll put your head on a fucken pike!" he yelled the club rose, she screamed.

Then a sharp crack echoed and the blow never fell looking up in walked Wheatley! In his hand he clenched the rifle he used to humble Guiche from his back sprouted a pair of majestic angel wings and he was clad in armor of a true noble.

Before she could blink he took aim and the raiders fell one by one, their heads exploded. Once the room was clear he walked in, the waters of life flowing behind him, cleaning the wasteland of filth, both the evil and the dead, plants springing to life in its wake.

Suddenly he knelt down and picked Louise up, sheltering her form the deadly wasteland that would kill her in a heartbeat. Their lips met, the pure and unblemished, to her own scared and burned.

They parted, and Louise saw he was the scared one, not an angel but a man.

She woke up that morning. She sighed and looked at Wheatley, who was still asleep. She suddenly realized just how lucky she was. She had gotten an angel, when it would have been much more likely for her to get a demon.


	8. Classes and letter

**_here we go!  
><em>**

* * *

><p>That day was Louise first school day since the summing ritual.<p>

Wheatley sat in the back of the room, Louise sat next to him, since he had atomized all her text books and was holding all of them.

The teacher, Mrs. Chevreuse, started the class.

"Good morning everyone." She looked around "I am always so glad to see all the new and familiars that come every spring." her eye overly lingered on Wheatley who did not notice for his part.

"Well for those of you new to the semester class this class will teach you about functional earth magic. It may not be as flashy as fire balls, but the magic of Earth is very important magic that governs the creation of all matter. If it wasn't for Earth magic, we wouldn't be able to produce or process necessary metals, raising buildings from large boulders and harvesting crops would also involve much more work. In this manner, the magic of the Earth element is intimately related to everyone's life."

She waved her wand over some stones turning them to brass.

That drew Wheatley attention. "Son of a bitch, that's supposed to be impossible." he said it softly. Kirche said her comment louder.

"Is that gold?"

"No it just brass. A triangle spell." she said somewhat smugly.

"Now if there aren't any questions." Wheatley raised his hand.

Surprised Mrs. Chevreuse called on him.

"Now I may not be able to do magic," more than a few students were confused, a commoner paladin? "But a simple question, how many elements can you transmute?"

"Three." she said "Fire, water, earth." she said.

"You misunderstood me." he said, ignoring Louise pained looked. "In my world the word Element has a different meaning. It means the smallest unit of matter you can possibly get." seeing he was not getting any were with his question. "How many different pure metals, like iron, silver, copper can you make?"

That seemed to make some sense to her. "A square class mage can make all 34 different matters. Is that you answer?"

"Yes." Wheatley said, but the tone made her a curious. "Was that the answer you were looking for?"

"Yes." Wheatley said, "Thank you."

"Well then I need a demonstration." she said and pointed to Louise, every one flinched away "how about you Miss Françoise?" She said.

"NO!" practically the whole class room exploded.

"Please don't!" someone said.

"She destroy the class room, again!"

"Now come on now, it can't be that bad." she said "Louise care to give it a try?"

Louise blushed a bright red and quickly declined. So she called Guiche up to show how it was done.

The two of them paid, silent, rapt attention the rest of the way though.

After words Louise was snarling mad at him. "How can you just embarrass me like that?" she said in a pained tone of voice. "O her familiar knows more about magic then she does she must be even lower than Zero, haw,haw."

Wheatley, who was trying to read one of her text books, or rather just looking at the pictures as he walked he really need to learn how to read the local books, "I was curious about how many, matters, you know about." He switched matters for elements at the last moment. "We just have more."

"hrump." She groaned

"Why are you called zero any way?" he asked unaware of the mine field he just stepped into.

"I can't do magic." She said at last. "Every time I try I just make a explosion."

"Is that all?" she glared at Wheatley who atomized the book he was reading and summoned a frag grenade into his hands.

"If I want to make a explosion I have to use one of these. If I could make explosions on command? That would be worth the cost of admission." And with the comment he atomized the frag grenade.

"So what's the next class?"

"None it now lunch." Louise said.

"Well good then." Wheatley said rubbing his hands together at the prospect of food to die for back in the wastes. "Let's go!" it was a short walk to get to some outside seating Louise pulled up some menus.

"Hay, isn't this the place you dueled Guiche?" Louise said as she looked for the her pie.

"Don't remind me." He said darkly. Louise was about to comment on it when a servant came over. Took their orders and left.

"Did she seem cold to you?" Louise noticed. It was like she was barely holding her feelings back.

"That's the problem." Wheatley sighed. "Remember how I said am a commoner? Well the servants don't believe me after the fight what with my armor and pip boy, and one such girl, Seista, that maid you had give me a bath?" Louise nodded she remembered. "Thinks, or has been convinced I lied in about being a noble in order to get her to fall for me." He sighed.

"I have tried only once to talk to her since then."

"Why?"

SHIFT  
>yesterday.<p>

"Out of my Kitchen!" a ham went flying out the door. "I will teach you to toy with the heart of Siesta! OUT!" a large carving knife went out next. "O so your running away? Come back here! I slice you up and serve you to the nobles! Fresh pig!"

SHIFT  
>"It didn't go well" Wheatley said in an understatement. "That Chief Marteau is dynamite!" he said thumping the table lightly.<p>

"Well what will you do?" Louise asked.

"Frankly I am at my wits end." he said with a sigh and de atomized a letter just as the servant came back and place the twin bowls of soup on the table.

"Hold a moment." she did just that, though her face showed her reluctance. Wheatley sighed "look I know what you think of me, and frankly it's a misunderstanding." Her face showed just how skeptical she was of that. "Just, please pass this on to Siesta, she never even gave me a chance to explain myself."

"That's it?" she said suspiciously.

"That's all I ask." Wheatley said. She thought about it and took it.

"No promises she come." she said and left. Wheatley sighed. "I understand." he then looked at his soup, or rather soups, he got four bowls.

"Why did you get so many of those any way?" Louise asked.

"For when I get hungry latter." he said. "You would not believe how long stuff keeps when I atomize it."

He then atomized them quickly and suddenly started to wince and hold his pipboy in pain.

"Ow,ow,ow! I keep forgetting that!"

"What?" Louise said.

"Atomizeing something does not make the heat go away, I feel all the damn heat when I do that." he was already sweating as his body compensated for the hot soup.

"And I think I have a burn on my hand." he held his pipboy up and looked at it.

"So why don't you look?" she asked in between eating her soup.

"Its, my pip boy. Do you have any idea how many times this thing has saved my life? More times then you can imagine squared."

"It not like any ones trying to kill you now." she commented.

"Theirs that." he said and nervously he undid the bio lock on it and slid it off. He started to rub his hand as he checked it.

"Nothing bad." then he noticed the runes on his hand.

"Odd, those weren't there before." he looked closer.

"Those must be the familiar runes." Louise said and Wheatley frowned and quickly slid his pipboy back on. He started to tap buttons rapidly.

"What are you doing?" she asked nervously, ever time he had done that a high caliber weapon had emerged.

"Checking something, if this thing can tell if I'm a gun nut and a commando then it may tell me what that is." he rubbed the back of his hand to his forehead that soup was really heating him up.

After a moment he looked up confused. "Whats a Gandalfr?"

SHIFT

The night Wheatley waited out where he said he would wait for Siesta, on his hip sat a newly cleaned Derflinger. "You know she might not come?"

"I know that." he sighed. Footsteps on gravel drew his attention and he looked to the person approaching.

It was not Siesta, but the maid he had given the letter to instead. He sighed.

"She not showing up is she?"

"Siesta's in trouble and frankly you're the only 'noble' who might give a damn enough to help." she crossed her arms and glared at him.

"What is it." he said de-atomizing an assault rifle around his shoulders.

"Siesta's been 'requested' to be Count Motts personal servant."

"and that's,,,, bad?" Wheatley said. Derflinger chimed in.

"When a noble asked for a pretty young girl to be a 'personal' servant it pretty much means he want her for his mistress."

"Now it's a problem." Wheatley glowered. This Mott was now pushing his slavery button, and when people pushed that button people died.

"Tell me about Mott." Wheatley growled.

"I don't know much." she said "all I know is that he showed up to check on some staff of 'obliteration' and he picked up Siesta as well, you go after her?"

"All I need is direction." he said activating his power armor which flowed over him boosting his already tremendous strength and making him the image of a powerful knight, a Paladin.

"Follow the road he's not far."

"On it." Wheatley said and looked down the path in question. In moments he was off.

"You got a plan partner?" Derflinger asked.

"I figure I show up in full armor, act like a noble and convince him to let her go, if that doesn't work I go with plan B."

"And Plan B is?"

"I use of suit of Chinese stealth armor, sneak in, and kill him."

"woo, harsh." he said

"What can I say, I'm mad."

SHIFT

From behind the gate a guard walked along the wall as he did every night so far everything was silent and calm, just how they were supposed to be. But when he reached the gate he had the shock of his life.

In front of the gate was a knight in full armor, made of some kind of white steel with a helmet tied to his belt.

It took a moment for him to get to his job.

"Identify yourself!" he lowered his spear, not that he thought it would do any good with that armor.

The knight raised his arm placating. "At ease I am Paladin Wheatley James. I seek an audience with Count Mott."

"Yes my lord." He said and scuttled off.

Wheatley frowned. "My lord?"

"What do you expect?" Derflinger chimed in, "In armor like yours with a talking sword? Of course you're a noble!"

"True enough, just be ready." he drummed his fingers on the hilt, O how he wished he could use a gun! But no! Nobles don't use guns and he need to make the right impression.

SHIFT

Count Mott was in his study looking out the window, seems some kind of minor commotion was at his gate.

Bah! His guard would deal with it, if not then he find out soon enough. Putting it from his mind he turned to the maid he had got that afternoon, a pretty thing.

"How are you acclimatizing?"

"Quite well sir." she said back dismissively, good he liked that. "Though there seems to be quite enough maids already."

"You know," he whispered in to her ear. "I did not hire you just for another maid." Siesta heart stopped in fear and her voice froze up.  
>Before Mott could go any further a guard entered the room.<p>

"My lord." he turned to face him.

"What is it?"

"A, Paladin! Sir! A fully armored knight named Sir Wheatley has come to see you." the guard calmed down half way though his sentence. Siestas heart started again, this time a glimmer of hope went through it.

"A knight? Did he say why he was here?"

"No sir. Just that he wanted a word with you and that it was not official business."

"Personal?" he looked at his maid, the timing was too close.

"I see, I shall go see him."

SHIFT

Mott estate was huge! It was as big as the Citadel! Wheatley shook his head he was going to have to adjust his sense of scale if he spent too much more time in this world.

_Focus_! He told himself,_ I can't play tourist need to act like this is normal._ He reigned in his gawking eyes and focused on waiting for Count Mott, unfortunately he was noticed as he gazed a painting.

"I see you have quite the eye for painting." Wheatley looked at the voice to find Count Mott walked down a stair case.

"It is a interesting work." The painting itself was not unlike something form the renaissance and a battle between Calvary knights charging a wall of pike men with a thousand tiny dragons in the air.

"Lot of action." He said "Though frankly I'm betting on the pikemen." Mott walked over, he could not help but eye Wheatley massive T-51b armor and cast a few hidden detection spells on it, when the result came back no magic he felt much safer.

"Indeed? The painting itself symbolize a moment in the battle of Tiggera wood, just before the lead mage knights blew away the ranks of Germanium foot men with a blast of fire magic almost 200 years ago."

"Really? I was unaware of Tristan's martial history; I shall have to see about educating myself." the timing made him unconformable. 200 years ago his people had destroyed themselves in atomic fire.

"Of course now it's much hard to get that close what with all their musketeers and there 'elite' Imperial Fusiliers." Mott waved his hand dismissively. "And I could write you a long litany of woe carved by the Kaiser's Jäger's. I swear the man who invented the hand gun should be shot his own invention."

"I see." Wheatley said looking at the painting again.

"But let us stop admiring art and get down to why you are here."

"Indeed." Wheatley said turning from the painting. "Recently you acquired a maid from the Tristan school of magic and I would like her returned."

"Why should I?" Mott asked and turned around, walked a short distance away before turning to face him again.

Though Wheatley had not known it, he had just walked himself out of the blast radius of a fire ball spell.

"A good question count Mott." Wheatley said "What you have here is one armored knight who is willing to do for you a great deal in return for this boon. So make me an offer." Mott frowned.

"Where did you get the armor Sir Wheatley? It is not Tristan make nor of any nation I am familiar with."

"I believe you have dodged the question." Wheatley said with a shrug. "In any case my armor comes from a very far of land you have never heard off. I assure you, although there are people there who would likely do your people harm, not only am I not one those people but I would fight to the death to protect this nation."

"I see." He said "Well as it so happens I do want, are you aware of the Zerbst family?"

"I am." Wheatley said.  
>"Well it has come to my attention that there student at the academy has a rare book I am interested in. if you could acquire that then I shall release her contract back to the schools." At the mention of Kirche family an idea flashed though Wheatley.<p>

"May I make a counter offer?" he tapped a few buttons on his pipboy and de atomized, to more then a few surprised looks and, a sword, more accurately the 'master work' sword Kirche had got him appeared in his hands.

Motts eyes went wide at the impressive sword.  
>"You like?" Wheatley said. "I'll trade you this sword, forged from by a Germanium master mage smith for one maid's contract."<p>

"Why don't you use it?" Mott asked his eyes never straying from the blade.  
>"This sword, though wonderfully made, does not hold a candle to a enchant sword." He patted Derflinger.<p>

He watched Mott carefully as he talked, he could see the war going on behind his eyes. It was a battle of sins, Greed VS lust.

Which would win?


	9. duel the second

_**New chapter and basicly, Wheatley failed a speech check.**_

_**Reply to:RAMON JAVIER ANG: I'm sorry I'm confused, what do you want me to do again? **_

* * *

><p>Mott shook his head. "No, I rather have my maid, or that book then your sword." It was clear, lust won.<p>

"I see." Wheatley said and twirled his sword around. Luckily he had a back up plan, (the stealth suit plan had gone to C) "Very well Count Mott you have forced me to go my back up plan." He planted the blade between his feet.

"I am Paladin Wheatley James of the Brotherhood of Steel and I challenge you, Count Mott to a duel."

Silence. Mott was stunned to speechlessness and Wheatley kept going. "In the event you win you shall keep Siesta's contract and this sword." He gestured to blade planted between his feet.

"Who?" he finally said.

"You don't even know her name? How low is that." Wheatley's face was a mask of disgust. "In any event if I win not only do I get ownership of Siesta but you get the sword any way. So either way you're up a masterful sword." That was plan B. Apply to his pride as a noble, and hope like hell he would take the bait and hold to it.

On Mott's part he looked Wheatley over. That detection spell had not only shown him no magic in the armor, but that fact he had not picked up on the vaguely offensive use of such a spell either said he was humble and did not care, or that he was too weak to notice.

Add to this that he had never heard of this, Brotherhood of Steel. It had to be a very, very minor order and therefore very weak.

That he claimed so proudly to be a member showed he may have more foolishness then power for not being more discrete.

"Very well then." he said and looked Wheatley over. "it is traditional not to duel with armor save in war time." Wheatley tapped a button and his armor glowed and flowed into his pipboy, a cleaner then when he had arrived Regulation duster taking its place.

"Time and place?" He asked.

"I have a dueling field out back, there in five minutes." he turned and walked off.

"I'll be there." Wheatley growled at no one. He cast his eyes to the top of the stairs and saw a nervous Siesta who had watched the whole proceedings.

For a few moments neither said anything till Siesta spoke. "What happens to me if you win?"

"That depends. Do you wish to go back to work at the school?" she nodded.

"Then you shall your life's your own." he smiled at her confused look.

"We talk more when I win."

"Hes a count!" she said out loud. "He rip you apart!" she yelled down.

"If all else fails, I will shoot him. No man can take a bullet to the head and come back from that." He smirked and turned to face a guard. "Where is this dueling field?"

SHIFT

It was behind the manor.

A wide open arena about the size of a foot ball field with four pools of water on the line between the 20, and 30 yard line to either side. They were on the edge of the field so they really did not get in your way. Also lining the field were flaming torches both giving enough light, but also fire for magic.

The logic was that all four elements, fire, water, earth and air would be as equal as possible.

Wheatley examined the field.

"Advice Derflinger?" he said asking the far older sword his point of view.

"I was a dueling sword for a few decades. All I can recommend is don't use your guns unless you have to. These things are affairs of honor; your guns would only make a mockery of that and earn you no friends."

He nodded. "So just you my ripper, and maybe my Tesla cannon, that thing would even be recognized as gun."

"Are you ready?" Mott said as he approached from behind.

"Yes." Wheatley turned to face a different Mott. Instead of the noble clothing he had fine leather armor much like a fencer would have save without a face plate.

"I thought you said no armor?" Wheatley said.

"This is dueling gear, it is not true armor do you wish a set?" Wheatley waved his pipboy over Mott and came back with a result on his armor.

"No, to restricting." he said. "Combatants center." a judge called and the two moved to the center of the arena.

The judge looked the two over. "You both know the rules?"

"No sir." Wheatley said.

"This duel will go till one side yields; if you live the arena you lose; you start in the center march ten paces, turn and fight. Understand."

"Yes sir." Wheatley said.

"Good." the portly judge said, "turn and wait for the count." he scuttled away as the two combatants stood back to back.

"You don't expect to win do you?" Mott asked condescending.

"I do." Wheatley said. "The only question is how I will do it."

"Gentlemen! On the count ten paces!" the judge called.

"One!" they began to walk forward, "two! Three!" on the sidelines, in the dead center of the field were the 'prizes' for the duel, Seista and the golden sword, somehow she thought the sword was treated better then she was given its place on a pedestal. Her contract was under the blade waiting for who would win to claim it.

Her heart was in her throat; her fate was on the line. She knew she wanted to win, but she did not think he could. He would get torn apart!

"Eight! Nine! Ten!." a pregnant pause. Then "fight!" Wheatley spun around drawing both Derflinger and De-atomizeing a Ripper which he throttled threateningly.

Mott came out swing. He turned his spin to face Wheatley into a tidal wave, the wand movement drawing all the water form one of the pools into a single bone smashing pillar of incompressible water.

"Partner!" before Derflinger could get his sentence off Wheatley was moving. Under his pipboy the runes glowed brightly, and though he had not noticed a great deal during his 'duel' with Guiche here though the effect was most akin to jetting on crack.

Like a shot he went left, skidding a little as the pillar of water went wide to his right. Before Mott had time to react he was charging forward.

Surprised, (he was so fast!) Mott twirled his wand and sent a hail of ice arrows from the pool on his right.

VATS was bad enough with a gun, with a sword, and the Gandalfr runes? All you saw was the blade blur and before you could blink fragments of ice were all that were left lightly pattering against his duster.

To Wheatley everything was just so slow that it was just painfully easy to smack them down.

If Mott was surprised before he was terrified now and backing up rapidly he turned all the water on the ground in front of him to ice. The results were as comical as it was serious.

Sliding on the suddenly lack of traction, windmilling his arms wildly to keep his balance, failing, landing on his face, sliding past Mott three feet to his right and just about coming to a stop only when he drove Derflinger into the ground.

"Ouch." Wheatley groaned.

"You ok?" Derflinger

"What do you think?" He growled back as he tried to stand on the ice and was failing miserably, finally he planted his feet near the tip of Derflinger blade, which oddly had no ice around it.

Mott smirked from his position, about a foot off the ground due to his levitated, as he prepped another spell. "You must have less magic then I thought if you cannot levitate off that ice."

Growling Wheatley checked his options. Ice and him, did not go well, it barely rained in the capital wasteland, much less snowed! So, aside from shooting him, that did not leave him a lot of lee way, wait a moment! He started to tap his pipboy.

"Remember what I said!" Derflinger cautioned.  
>"It's not a gun." Wheatley said calmly back.<p>

Mott drew his wand back, a ice spear forming on the tip of it almost like a atlatl, he aimed for Wheatley's leg, a crippling blow that he could have healed up latter, only for a brilliant green ball of light to melt his wand to green goo before he could release it.

His levitation spell wore off without the wand and he fell to the ground barely keeping his balance on the ice.

Smirking Wheatley blew the top of his plasma pistol like he had a small cloud of gun smoke to clear away.

Mott though had no idea what he had just used. It looked like, and was held like a pistol, but a green bolt of fire? That had to make it a wand, a very odd wand, but a wand none the less.

His mind though refused to fully categorize it both pistol and wand were correct, and not correct.

While he was having a minor melt down trying to categorize it. Wheatley took aim and fired into the ice the glowing bolts of plasma melting though it creating a path, between him and Mott.

Seeing the danger Mott fumbled for a back up wand as his challenger approached sword at the ready.

Siesta's heart rose as the distances closed he was going to win! He may be a liar at worst, (she was in the same wand or pistol internal debate as Mott) but he was better than Mott!

Finaly Mott got his second wand out and pointed it at the incoming Wastelander, the cast levitation charm sending him flying just over head due to his forward movement. He even had to duck as Derflinger cut a few hairs off.

"You do know I could kill you from up here?" Wheatley said as he slid a new energy cell into the plasma pistol to both make a point and reload. He was just tempting fate as the charm wore off and he fell to the ice landing hard.

Groaning he thumped his pipboy to administer some stim packs.

"Enough of this." Mott said as he waved his wand, the ice melted and formed a pair of pillars of water to either side. "Dodge this!" he lunched them as one single tsunami of force that covered the whole arena.

The massive wall of water was barring down with bone crushing force and for a moment in completely enveloped every ones sight, no one had any idea what was going on under the vertical lake.

Then a single blaring thunder clap echoed as the wall exploded casting droplets of water over the whole arena soaking spectators and fighters.

In the silence only the sound of dripping water echoed. Wheatley panted and in the silence the clicking of him reloading his Gauss rifle as he slide a new micro fusion cell into place echoed loudly.

Once reloaded he swung the large rifle over his shoulder and drew Derflinger from where he had planted him in the ground he brought the sword to a ready positron.

"Is that all you got you tube of lard?" Mott was running out of ideas. So far he had been lucky but he was tiring and this, lunatic was not even winded!

At the end of his sentence Wheatley was moving forward again. He was almost a blur and this time Mott had no recourse.

The hilt of the blade smacked into his stomach and he just about keeled over. The blade pulled back a second, then the pummel smashed into his chin blowing him over.

He then placed the tip of the blade an inch over his throat.

"I win." he said at last.

Everyone across the field was silent, and more than one guard loaded a cross bow to be safe in this situation. Wheatley slid Derflinger back into his scabbard, and the change was instant now that he was no longer holding a weapon.

His breath grew labored, his arms and legs were tired and the cold of all that water hit him. Tiredly he turned to Siesta who was on the side lines.

"Please meet me by the front gate, I have some unfinished business with the Count." Seista nodded nervously, took her contract and scuttled off.

No one stopped her.

Wheatley then turned to the sunned count. He lightly kicked him in the ear.

"Wake up and smell the gamma radiation." he said smugly/sweetly "I have something I need to talk to you about." Mott groaned and worked his way to a sitting position rubbing his chin as he tried to ward the pain away the commoner way. (no magic)

"Now that you conscious a little advice for the future." Wheatley knelt down to get to Mott eye level. "If I ever hear of you pull a stunt like this again I shall come back, challenge you again and proceeded to kick you fat ass because I can."

Mott was stunned. "How dare you! A fellow noble talk to me like that!" Wheatley scoffed.

"And that's the second point. I am not a noble, can't do magic." at Mott face he shrugged. "I am both a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel like I told you, and a commoner, you can be that back home." he shrugged. "In any case, call it a threat or a promise I don't care, but make one more commoner your 'mistress' with out there consent and I will come back." he more forcefully kicked his leg leaving a slight bruise

"And do this all over again." with that he turned and walked off, unaware of just how many cross bows were tracking him.

SHIFT

The gate swung open with the scrape of metal hinges and Wheatley met up with Sesita. The two trade glances before Wheatley shook his head.

"Let's fix that." he tapped a button on his pipboy, put his left hand on her shoulder and dematerialized the servants outfit that had been his standard outfit so far over her replacing the wet clothing.

",,, thank you." she said at last

"Well lets go, we have a long walk ahead." Wheatley said and the two set off.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them before Siesta spoke.

"Why?"

"humm?" the noncommittal reply came back

"I have been avoiding you, called you a liar to your face, Marteau threw a ham at you!"

"And you want to know why?" he said with a half smile. She nodded. He expelled a great deal of air and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I don't know." he did not notice her odd look. "Why does anyone have morals and others don't? What makes a Regulator different from Talon Company or me from Mott." he put his thumb over his shoulder as he made a reference closer to home.

"Ever since I left the vault, and picked up that thrice damned name 'Wasteland Messiah'," on this he went off down a well worn pet peeve. "Do you have any idea how many people actually use my name? It's always, 101 this and messiah that. My god it's bloody annoying!" he shook his head sadly. His rant had only bewildered Siesta even more.

"In any case I just can't stand injustice and I always do what I can to help. From defusing atom bombs to killing every last slaver in the whole wasteland. I just, help, it's what I do, who I Am." the two kept walking down the road.

"So are you a noble or aren't you?"

"Look me in the eye." he said simply and the two stopped as her blue eyes to his amber. "I am not a noble." he said plainly. "I am, in my moments of honesty, an important man of the capital wastelands, but nothing more, nothing less."

"You're a knight." She countered.

"funny thing." he said with a chuckled. "Aside from being a 'honorary' paladin, commoners can be knights back home. It hard but you can do It." he shrugged. "So what do you think? Of me? A liar? A man? Commoner? Messiah?"

"Odd." she said simply and he chuckled. She thought about it some more.

"I believe you." he smiled and let out a breath he had been holding.

"Thank you." he said and the two set off again, silent for another few minutes before he spoke again.

"You're going to be less happy tomorrow though." She eyed him oddly. "He gave you high heel shoes. If you don't have a blister when we get back I'll eat em."

SHIFT

"They back yet?" one of the servants at the gate to the academy asked. The small group eyes were all looking for a familiar shape, and the shape of a familiar.

"Nope." another said as he held the lamp a little higher.

"You both been put out." Marteau said with scoff and folding his arms over his chest. "There's no way that, 'noble' would help are Siesta."

"I don't know." a third one, the maid who had set Wheatley going in the first place said in a uncertain voice. "He was in quite a hurry."

"Probably to congratulate Mott." Marteau said with a frown. "After all he got with no effort what he had lost in seconds." a few of them nodded at the comment.

Then the man holding the lamp spoke up excitedly. "I see something!" a bobbing dull green light was approaching. Then he grew even more excited "It's them!" the small group cheered at the prospect of one of there own coming back form the metaphorical gates of hell.

At the sound Siesta peeled from her companion's side and sped to the waiting embrace of friends and faculty.

"Siesta!" Marteau said overpowering everyone else as he hugged her lifting her off the ground and just about driving the air from her lungs.

"Easy Marteau!"she said happily and wince when he put her down.

"Whats wrong?" he asked seriously.

"Blisters." she said. The next few minutes were spent warding off well wishers and hugs.

Wheatley watched from a distance. Earlier he had told Siesta he did not know why he was such a 'good two shoes' as Butch sometimes called him. That was why. Seeing other people's happiness did it for him. It was better than any jet rush; god knows he did some stupid things when he first left the vault so he would know.

After a few minutes he sighed and walked forward. The small crowd stopped as he approached, a stranger to their world in more ways than one.

Marteau walked forward and Wheatley held his breath, the image of a carving knife going though his head. With a suddenly movement he put his hand out. With a smile Wheatley took it and shook it.

"Seems I was wrong about you." he said gruffly.

"You're not the first, nor the last." Wheatley said with a smile.  
>"I still have my eye on you." he said with a small smile, not unlike a bull dogs.<p>

"I won't not have it any other way." Wheatley said.

SHIFT

The door opened and Wheatley met the small pout of Louise. "Where have you been?" she asked. "Making out with the maid?" she then noticed he was wet. "Did it rain or something?"

"Ask yourself do you really want to know what I've been doing?" he tapped his pip-boy and his Duster swapped out for a servant uniform.

"Not really." she sighed.

"I may tell you in the morning." he said as he laid down on the mattress, "when it won't give you heart attack."

"What did you do?" she said now worried.

"Good night Louise." he snapped his fingers and the light went out.


	10. stage

_**A build up chapter, so please bare with me.**_

_**You know I've had it drawn to my attention I've been neglecting my other story's so i need to work on those, the next up date will be a fair bit slower in coming.**_

* * *

><p>A few weeks had passed since he had come back from Count Motts. In the mean time things had gotten into a pattern. He followed Louise round all day, carried, or rather, atomized all her school books, and on occasion used his pip-boys record function to get some hard topics for later listening.<p>

He also spent a fair bit of time with Siesta helping her out with odd jobs around the school such as washings and the like.

For two weeks this pattern continued then came the annual familiar contest.

Headmaster Osmond watch in no small amusement as the stage just about shot up. He did think he ever seen it built so fast. He told Professor Colbert so much in fact.

"Well it has to do with Louise familiar Wheatley." he said back. The two watched from the steps as the man in question worked his, thing, into position and with an odd half whistle, half-tropical bird call and another 6-inch iron spike was driven into place.

"Indeed." Osmond said his head in his hand as a worker tossed him an iron nail and he reloaded his, thing. "Funny, I was under the assumption that the staff disliked him."

"I was too." Colbert shrugged. "I asked about it and," a whistle cut him off and he spoke again. "Turns out he help one of the servants with a problem with one of the nobles."

"Really?" Osmond said, more than a little worried "How did did he do that?"

"Apparently he challenged Mott to a duel, and won." Silence stretched between the two; there concerns about just what KIND of familiar he was came back.

"And you're sure he has no runes on him?"

"Positive, the only place I have not checked that could have runes is his left hand and I'm not even sure that glove thing can come off."

"I see, perhaps it's for the best then." He said. The two kept watching the stage grew. At this rate, it would be done a few days early.

"Excuse me." The two turned to see a somewhat upset Louise. "Do you know where my familiar is?"

"He's helping build the stage." Colbert pointed at him and Louise stomped off to confront him.

A short walk latter she was in front of the stage bellowing at the man holding the improvised nail gun.

"What are you doing?" he looked down.

"I thought I lend a hand, the fact I am getting paid for my time may also have something to do with It." with that he drove another spike into the stage affixing a plank with ease.

"Paid! You're my familiar I'm suppose to take care of you! Not the other way round." For her trouble a rail road spike slammed between her feet scaring her just about a foot in the air and setting her hair on edge.

"I thought we went over this whole 'I'm a person thing." He said back with a frown. "In any case my caps are useless here and I do have expenses." He did not mention how much powder he was wasting trying to hand load 5.56 cartages, he just was not any good at it. Back home he had heard of some hand loader back west who could make a bullet that made armor look like paper, but was it just was not a east cost skill.

"Beside, well over half my time back home was spent on odd jobs, did I ever tell you about the time I delivered a letter and ended up having to deal with vampires?"

"Vampires!" Louise gaped along with more than a few workers.

"Well, so they claimed." He shrugged. "Point is you never know what will happen." Silence for a moment, he shrugged and shot another plank into place.

"What do you need any way Louise?"

"Your suppose to be practicing your sword!" she growled at last.

"O yes this, familiar contest. We both know that Tabitha's going to win, she summoned a friggen dragon! I can't compete with that." he said at her frown.

"Beside I have no powers." Louise tapped her left arm. "My pip-boy? It does all the power I can't do squat save be a good shot."

"And the sword fighting?" She replied.

Wheatley ignored her for a second. "Right the stage is down! Where too now?" a cry came back they need a hand with the curtains.

"On it." Then to Louise. "I have no clue. I been meaning to read up about that Gandalfr perk on my pip boy, except when I get the library I remember, I can't read. I'll have to talk to Colbert."

"You want me to get you some children s books?" she smirked hoping to get under his skin. It failed.

"That might actually be a good idea." he shrugged. "In any case it may not be important in the short term, but I can not tell you how many times my life has been saved by a book." and with that he slid another rail road spike into the rifle turned nail gun.

"I'll get to work on the sword thing latter I'll wrap this up first." and with that he walked off to lend a hand with the curtains.

Louise fumed and stomped off in no small annoyance. The princess was coming and her familiar was treating it like a big joke.

SHIFT

Two hours latter Wheatley tapped his pip-boy in no small annoyance as he looked at the offending image on the screen. Nearby Louise read a book on a chair and Derflinger was resting on his hip.

Normally his pip-boys list of perks showed what it did, though he always thought it pulled the numbers out of its ass, so to speak.

This time though nothing. The only description was, Error, the image in question, again he had to ask where it came from? The image showed the vault boy with runes on his left hand looking curiously at his hand scratching his head with the other.

He frowned deeper as he glared at it. "I really need to find out what the hell this thing is." he sighed and leaned his back to the stone wall in thought.

"Quit lazing off!" a irate Louise yelled from her chair as she read her book.

"Your one talk." he said back.

"For your information I am trying to look up your rune your so worried about." she said back with a snarl.

"What is with you? You been snipy as hell the last few days." he said back with more then a touch of venom.

"The princess will be there to watch and I want to make a good impression!" She said back sharply.

"You two good friend or something?" he leaned back. "Cuz, quite frankly if its all just a political ambition thing,"

"I would never!" she said back, the sheer outrage putting him on the defensive. "OK, OK!" he said raising his hands to placate her. He stood back up and unsheathed Derflinger.

"Any advice? I mean your the sword?"

"Don't sweat it, I mean your the Gandalfr." he glared into the hilt.

"Care to explain what you know about it bud?"

"What you don't know? Come on! You moved like a natural when you beat that pompous count up."

"You did what!" Louise said dropping her book as her face went red with anger and confusion.

"I did challenge him to a duel first, nice and legal assuming duels are legal in the first place." he rubbed the back of her head as Louise quivered in anger.

"You, stupid! Dog!" she said looking for words to place her anger. At some point Wheatley had crossed a line. Between beating a noble up, the accusation of political ambition in impressing the princess, and his lack of diligence in leaning how to use a weapon he had admitted to having no clue how to use.

"umm, you know back home we have a expression." he said as she drew her wand.

"And that is?" she growled.

"Discretion is the better part of valor." with that he de-atomized his Chinese stealth armor and turned invisible. Louise looked around sharply wondering where the heck he had gone, and how he had done that!

"Nice trick." Derflinger whispered as the two crept though the school. "You know magic does not normally effect me so this is some handy bit of kit."

"Shut up Derf, were being sneaky." Wheatley growled back. For a few minutes they made there way though the school till they got to a wooden shack and Wheatley uncloaked at last and entered, and found two old friends.

The first was professor Colbert who was working on a lab table that lined a wall with all sorts of chemicals on it. The second prompt him to speak up before he fully atomized his stealth armor.

"You still have that thing?" spread out on the floor was the Death Claw that had come though the summing with him. Colbert started, almost dropping one of his beakers and turned to face Wheatley.

"Wheatley! What are you doing here?"

"I seem to have crossed a line with Louise and am one wand wave away from being blown up." he shrugged in his time with her he had noticed her explosions tended to the loud, but non lethal kind. "Any way you still have this guy?" he pointed at the Death Claw and Colbert nodded.

"yes. Its incredibly interesting!" he said walking over and lifting a flap of skin to revel where he had done a dissection. "at first I thought it was some dragon subspecies but after dissection it actually had more in common, taxidermicly speaking, with a lizard."

"Gee what gave you that idea." Wheatley said sarcasticly scratching a scale off its neck.

"Well," Colbert started and Wheatley preempted him.

"Save it, I know a long winded explanation when I hear one. A more mundane question is why is this thing has not rotten yet?"

"A few preservation charms." he said pointing them out.

"I see." Wheatley said the shrugged. "Mind if I stay here I need a word with a magic sword and Louise is still likely mad as heck." he drew Derflinger and glared at the hilt.

"Fine by me." Colbert said turning back to his beakers of Dragons blood, only to turn back in shock when he heard the first sentence Wheatley said.

"Ok then, whats a Gandalfr?"

"Gandalfr? Why do you ask?" Wheatley held his pip-boy up.

"Some kind of runes are on my left hand under my pip-boy, and according to my pip-boy there something called Gandalfr effecting me. What it does I have no idea." he shrugged.

"I thought that thing was part of your arm?" he said surprised.

"It is, sort of." he shrugged. "The way I understand it is that the thing fuses to my arm when the bio lock engages."

"May I see?" Colbert asked.

"I, really don't like taking my Pip-boy off." he said, but he did reluctantly take it off to show the teacher.

For a few moment Colbert looked at the runes before Wheatley drew his arm back and slid his pip-boy back on it and flexed his hand a few times.

"For the record this is the most time I have ever spent with out my pip-boy sine I was ten." Colbert nodded. "So what's a Gandalfr?"

"O." Colbert said getting out of his musings on what this meant. "A Gandalfr is a kind of legendary familiar only used by the founder him self it was said to be a master at any weapon."

"I can attest to that." at his look he replayed. "Technically I have never had any formal training with any weapons, much less complicated sword forms. Also when I used Derflinger it was like I was ultra-jetting and everything just about stood still."

"Jetting?" Colbert asked.

"It's, ah crap, I really do not want to explain." Colbert nodded he knew how that felt and let it drop. "So what kind of world are you from any way?"

"A dead one." he said simply. At Colbert odd look he shrugged. "Ask me when you have a spare globe or map available I'll be able to put in perspective. I grew up with it and I don't understand it half the time."

"I see." Colbert said with a nod. "Excuse me I have, some business I should get back too."

Wheatley nodded. "I'll wait here till I think Louise would blow me up when she see's me."

"Just, please be carefully a lot stuff here is flammable." and with that Colbert left, the shack, but once out of sight he started to run, the headmaster had to know about this!

Wheatley leaned back against a wall with only a dead Death Claw for company. With a sigh he de atomized a well worn of copy of guns and bullets and started to thumb though it.

"I need a better reading book." he said at last.


	11. thief

**_New Chapter! let me know what you think of this one lads and lass's_**

* * *

><p>A few days later Wheatley was working on another of his fire arms as Louise watched from her bed.<p>

"I don't see why you keep taking them apart, and putting them together, and taking them apart, and putting them back together." She smoldered. In frustration she picked a book up and started to read it again.

"I rather seem paranoid in making sure everything works then foolish when something breaks." Silence then Wheatley spoke up again.

"So I take it the massive fanfare this afternoon was for the princesses?" He turned to face her, a pair of calipers in his hands.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but why such a big showing? A princess does not rule a country, they," the book that impacted his head shut him up.

"Of course she's important! She a symbol of the country, of our pride, she's kind, cares for and!"

"ok,ok, at ease did not mean anything by it." He said calming her and with that he slid the last part into his Lincoln repeater and held the ancient fire arm up and stared down the sights. "You know I could teach you how to shoot." Louise scoffed at the offer.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"I don't know." He said atomizing the rifle. "Just putting it out that's all."

Then the door opened and a cloaked women entered, and she promptly had a revolver pointing at her.

"Turn around slowly." Wheatley. The women did so; seemingly knowing she was at gun point and undid her hood.

"Princess!" Louise said then after a moment she figured out just what was being pointed at Henrietta's head she threw herself at Wheatley, who had atomized his pistol when he figured out she was no threat.

Wheatley had a half second to turn his head to Louise, see her flying though the air, and have a dawning moment of horror as he saw her trajectory just before he was knocked off balance.

The two ended up falling to the floor in a tangled heap of pink curls, childish rage and indignation on Louise side, and Wheatley, trying hard not to break bones with his over 500 pound body as she tried to beat him with her little fists yelling how she would, 'protect the princess.'

Finally he got a good hold on her and lifted her off the ground as he stood back up.

"All right enough!" she squirmed and tried to get out of his grasp. "Ok, I'll put you down now, and please don't do anything."

"How dare you! You pointed one of your filthy, Mangums at the princess!"

"Yes before I knew she was the princess and meant no harm." He dropped her and she stumbled before she put her finger in his face.

"You should apologize!"

"Derr! Of course I will! I don't know about you but its common courtesy to apologize when you stick a gun in some ones face and then find out there no threat at all!" he took a breath and turned to the amused face of the princess.

"Sorry I pointed my gun in your face." he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

"It's no problem." She smiled though Wheatley did notice a bead of sweet going down her face, she had a good idea just how easily she could have been shot. He then turned to Louise who had fallen to her knees bowing.

"O I should be on my knees right?"

"You should!" Louise hissed.

"Louise," Henrietta said with a smile. "It's alright." she reached down and hugged her friend. Wheatley sat down with a smile.

"So you two want me to leave or something? I'm sure you two got things to catch up on."

"No please stay." Henrietta said "I came to see both of you. I've heard so many things about you. Both at the capital and here. For example I heard that a knight with unknown armor, with a description matching your appearance defeated Count Mott in a duel." Wheatley coughed into his hand.

"Technically I'm a honorary paladin. Though functionally I really don't think there is a difference. Got a dog tag and everything." at that he pulled a necklace out and showed to the two girls. (though Louise was still bowing)

"Shows my name, Wheatley James, rank, Paladin (H), my serial number, and some other details I've put down so when they log me away in the codex I'm more then a name and number."

"Really?" Henrietta said mentally taking notes on how this very different knightly culture worked. "what does your say?"

"Lone Wanderer." he said with a frown. "I hate when people use it instead of my name. But other then that not so bad really." he then shook his head.

"My turn. Whats your relation What exactly do you noble magic knights think of me?"

"Wheatley!" Louise hissed angry at his disrespect.

Henrietta sighed and knelt down to Louise level since it was clear there was no way she was standing back up. "Louise, its ok. You loyalty is touching, it really is. If only half of my lords were like you but honestly Louise, were too close to have you bow down in my presence constantly. It hard enough being surrounded by fawning nobles in public, in private, there's no one I can speak to, to share my thoughts." Her face scrunched up at some, before now unmentioned pain.

Wheatley shook his head rueful. At the age of 19 he defused a atomic bomb he knew pressure. Still a entire country, with a population in one city that was higher then then the entire wasteland?

He did knew stress, but never on such a, literal large scale. He stood up and stretched offering the chair to the princesses who took it. She sat down.

It was the first time that night he did something Louise approved of.

He sat back down on the bed and leaned back. Henrietta sighed, his question long forgotten.

For a moment a uncomfortable silence stretched as the princesses rested in her thoughts almost gloomily. Then with a sigh she slumped down, grew a little less, royal. "But can we please stop talking about politics. God knows that's all my world is now."

for the rest of the night, they were both truly teenagers again and talked about what girl teens talk about, from Tristan to Megaton.

Shopping.

SHIFT

The next day an unhappy Wheatley stood back stage. The plan for his, 'act' was atomize a few pounds of lead, then deatomize a few pounds of gold. A simple stage trick that none the less looked impressive.

The problem was to pull it off he had to have atomized a few pound of gold, and gold was heavy! And rather than leave any of his weapons or armor behind he just took the extra weight.

Now his pipboy may say he was 'almost perfect' but even so he had a limit and right now he was at it. At that limit his extra mass made it feel like a really horrible cold. The kind where you felt heavy and just did not feel like moving at all.

So here he was, with 20 pounds of borrowed gold in him, waiting to absorb almost twice (lead was less dense then gold so he needed more of it to make two result with the same volume and god forbid they don't do this right!) as much lead.

Really it was not that much, but it sure as hell felt like it!

He blew a lock of hair out his eyes. "I'll need to find a barber soon." He muttered, his thoughts when even darker as the thought of Buch his favorite barber led his thoughts back to the capital wasteland, what the hell was going on back there?

He sighed again and focused on his current life. Can't change the past, you can only go forward.

The stage announcer called up Tabitha who finally put her book away and walked from the back stage area, to the stage proper.

"Break a leg." Wheatley said as she walked up to the stage.

"Break a leg?" Louise said horrified from beside him.

"It's an expression; honestly it's just a term. Means good luck and no I have no idea why we say that."

"Your culture is very odd, wishing physical abuse on people as a sign of affection." Kirche said walking back from the stage, her showing had gone on without a hitch.

"Sometimes I can see why Lousie really hates you." Wheatley said rolling his eyes. But as far as he knew she was being serious. "And I don't wish physical abuse on any one."

"Except me." Guiche said almost painfully.

"Yes I did it, but no I did not want. If you recall you had to attack me, in the back to get me to really hammer you."

With that he stretched, "erg, I be right back, I need to walk about. I feel like I'm about to fall asleep." Louise humped.

"Fine be right back. I don't want you falling asleep on stage." He nodded and walked off short distance leaving the stage behind him and getting behind a hedge so he was out of line of sight.

Sighing he de-atomized the gold coins and flexed his fingers at the tingle that always went though his hands when he atomized something, incoming or out going.

"If only I had a safe place to store my armor." He said in frustration as he held one of the gold coins. Vault health classes had said that storing 'excessive' amounts of matter in you would suffer, quote "major health issues."

And quite frankly it felt good to not weigh over 400 pounds every now and again.

*Thummm!*

A massive, almost drum beat sound echoed. Confused, Wheatley followed the sound. Again and again it softly echoed, the high hedges cut his line of sight and distorting the sound.

Then a break in the hedge. Turning he was confronted by, it.

It was as tall as a tower, and hiding just behind the curve of one.

Shaped like a deformed man with spikes on its wrist a massive, thing! Was pounding the tower.

"Mother fucker!" He cryed in surprise. "It's as big as Liberty prime!" the thing seemed to notice him. A man on the far shoulder coming into view as it turned to face him.

"Well, well. I need to blow off some steam and you're do." shaking his head clear he deatomized his Tesla cannon and power armor. _"If this thing starts yelling about communism I am gone!"_ he thought to him self.

Unlike a noble he did not waste time with demanding he surrender and noble calls of honor, so he just fired.

With a blaring electrical noise the lightning bolt impacted the golems chest.

And did nothing.

Rock was not conductive to electricity all he ended up doing was melting a small portion of the surface that ran down it chest in red gooey rivulets. Turns out a lightning bolt had no concussive force, only heat and electrical force. Meaning hitting something solid to try and destroy it was pointless.

Silence echoed after the bolt of energy. The man was surprised by the bolt then he smiled under his hood.

"Well I was warned you were a knight. Just not what kind!" at the last word he attacked the massive golem moving slowly but with the force of a mountain.

Having reloaded Wheatley fired another bolt at its hand as he strafed sideways. Again: only a small patch of rock was melted. The stone hand crashed barely behind him the force from the impact sending him flying a short distance.

Landing hard he scrambled up right and kept moving as the arm swept to the right trying to crush him.

All the while he was cursing and praying that he would get out of this, and that he had a damn fatman! Or a missile launcher!

SHIFT

Louise tapped her foot against the stage in frustration. "Where is he?" the speed of her food increased as her nerves built up. They were on next bless it!

Snapping she stomped off to find him. Going into the hedge she saw the small pile of gold coins.

"These are on loan!" she hissed as she picked them up, only to find she did not have a proper container for them. "And he had to leave them where someone could steal them?" Leaving most of it behind she stomped off into the hedge rows to find him.

Fuming she muttered any number of G rated, and the word dog at least 34 times, curses.

"Where the heck is he? Were on in five minutes!" The ground shook under her. She paused and looked around. All she saw were tall hedges. Still mad though she ignored it and kept stomping.

Turning a corner she froze.

Wheatley was dodging, trying to avoid being crushed by a massive Golem! While he shot at it with some kind of, popping, brass spitting, rapid fire, silent, whatever! It was not a musket!

As she watched he barely dodge another blow as he emptied another magazine into it, to no effect.

"Seriously? You're a triangle mage and all you can do is shoot me?" the man on the shoulder yelled down as his golem nearly missed again. "What kind of noble are you?"

He did not answer he was kept trying to dodge the massive arms of rock that was trying to crush him.

"Partner draw me!"

"Swords don't work on rock!" he said scrambling away from another near miss.

He kept trying to work the Perforator up to hit the mage on the shoulder the rapid clicking the only sound that was quickly lost in the sound of golems movement.

He froze for a second, missing what Derflinger said next as he spotted Louise from between the Golems legs. With a cry one of the massive boulder arms clipped his shoulder the armor absorbing most of the force so he was still alive, and had a unbroken shoulder, it still send him flying.

Landing heavily he was stunned and could barely think as the Golem raised its arm to smash him to paste.

Suddenly a explosion echoed as a cloud of smoke sprouted from the tower wall.

The man turned bemused to the source, Louise who had missed the Golems fist seemed to pale at the sight of the massive golem.

For a moment no one said anything, until the sound of cracking stone grew louder. Three pairs of eyes turned to the tower as the spider web of cracks grew larger.

"Well that's convenient." he said and the raised fist smashed into the center of the cracks smashing though in two blows. While he did that Wheatley cut between the golems legs de-atomizing a sniper rifle while he did so.

As soon as he was next to Louise he knelt and took aim.

"Wheatley! Whats going on! Who's this? Why was he trying to kill you!"

"Shut up!" Wheatley snapped peeling his eye away from the scope. "You have any idea how hard sniping is! Of course not I would not be surprised if you did not know what rifling is!" his frustration of having to fight a liberty prime size chunk of rock was showing.

When he put his eye back to the scope the thief had entered the hole in the tower.

"Louise do we want him alive?"

"What?" she asked confused an expression of confusion and horror on her face as he realized a life hung on her decision.

"Do we want him alive? Or can I kill him."

"Alive!" Louise said quickly.

"Got it, one knee capping coming up!" he said it with such viciousness that Louise was almost stunned. She had forgotten just how hard his world was, and pitiless it was.

The man exited the hole, a massive box floating behind him.

"I must thank you for allow, "before he could finish Wheatley fired.

Though not strictly a 'knee capping' the bullet still hammered in to his thigh in a plume of blood.

Crying in pain he collapsed, however it was onto his golems arm.

Moving the massive stone limb though sheer force of will, he place himself in its shoulder sinking into the rock while heavy .308 bullets slammed into the golem where he should be.

Cursing, and it was a real raider style, burn your ears off style one, Wheatley locked a new clip into place and took aim, no point in shoot if there was nothing to hit.

Fighting though the pain the stones being began to move. The turning the golem walked away, almost as if it was board and lumbered away, high stepping over the wall and into the forest.

Wheatley stood up from his firing crouch and held his gun at ease. He then whistled.

"That is one hard ass."

"What!" Louise exclaimed. "He just broke into, literally! The most highly guarded and fortified vault in the kingdom! Stealing whatever he just did! Under the nose of the entire royal guard and every student in the school! How can you admire him!"

He raised his hand placating. "Not what he did. But you must remember I shot him and he still had enough focus to work his, what? Familiar? No it was made of rock."

"Golem!" Louise snapped. By now the break in had been noticed and a crowd started gather.

"Lovely." Wheatley said atomizing his power armor and rifle.

"game of 20 questions begin."


	12. Staff of obliteration

**_New chapter, I'm sorry about how slow these updates are coming i just have more ideas then i do sense._**

* * *

><p>It was a couple days latter and both Louise and Wheatley had been pulled from class to speak to the Headmaster about the 'incident'<p>

Tabitha had been call in as well due to the fact her flight may have meant she might have seen something. No idea why Kirche was there though.

Right now Wheatley leaned against a wall as Louise told the headmaster, and the entire teaching staff, everything that had happened, the Golem, the fight and that he had stolen something.

"This is grave." the Headmaster Osmand said frowning behind his mustache. Then he spoke to Wheatley.

"You were already fighting Foquet? How do you make of him?"

"He's tough. Very strong. He was able to move his golem even with a bullet wound. Was not even slowed from what I could tell. At least we have a advantage." Osmand raised a eye brow. "The afford mentioned bullet wound. No way he can move with out a limp."

"I see." Osmand said smoking on his pipe. "Louise mentioned you had a suit of strange armor?"

"T-51b the best power armor made by the USA." with that he pushed a button on his pipboy and the light blue light that showed he was deatomizing something flowed over his body until he was completely covered by the off white armor save the helmet.

Osmand just about swallowed his pipe in surprise. That armor!

Mr Colbert was less surprised and asked a question.

"Power armor? How is that different from normal armor?"

"Power armor has servos that make me stronger amplifying my movements." he then deatomized a revolver spinning the cylinder threateningly. "Now then. Where can I find this Foquet? I got a bullet with his name on it."

"What?" Louise said confused.

"A bullet with his name on it." he said again. Then clarified "It means the bullet that is so destined to kill him, it has a name his name on it. Old saying back home." he said at Louise horrified expression. "every one has a bullet on there name on it. Of course they also said that bullets have names, and explosions are addressed to who it may concern."

"That does sound a bit extreme. We want to capture this criminal live if at all possible." Loungeville said.

"Really?" Wheatley said. "Seriously? Back home I got the impression that if you picked up the wrong can you'd get the ever loving shit kicked out of you."

"Be that as it may." Miss Miss Loungeville said. "We have evidence on where Foquet may be."

"Well good then." Wheatley smiled. "I'm in."

"As am I." The Lone Wanderer turned to face Louise as Kirche and Tabitha spoke there agreement as well. He was a bit unsure what to think about that. On the one hand: they were kids on the other hand.

Goddamn it! People were actually lifting a finger to help themselves! About time!

"You sure?" at Louise solid face he nodded. "Right then. When do we start?"

SHIFT

"A bullet with his name on it?"Louise said as the two walked down a hall ways as Wheatley reset some of his hot keys. This time he was going to use his Gauss rifle on him. "You are going to kill him!"

"Of course I am." He said adjusting his glasses. "I learned early on there are two ways to help people. One: Find ways to help them live. Two: Kill people who would harm them. Either way helps."

Louise spun to face the hard face of the Wasteland Messiah, victor of the battle of project purity, slayer of the Fire Ants, freer of slaves, burner of paradise falls, destroyer of Talon company and many more titles. "The wasteland is a hard place to live. Its kill or be killed as I have told you. What made you think I would be exempt from that?"

Wheatley shook his head and sighed his hard face softening. "At times I look back at my time in the vault and wonder what that little Vault Dweller I was would think about me, what he would become. I think it be a mix between shock and disappointment on the face of it. O the wonder of Naivety and childish self righteousness. Bit like you now." he said after a moment of thought.

With that he shrugged. "As it stands, I'll try to take her captive. Glad I never got rid of this toy." he deatomized his Mesmetron. "Never really used it for its intended purpose. But it comes in handy." with that he atomized it. "It will either take him captive, or blow him skull up." he frowned at Louise look.

"That's what we call a, minor, side effect."

"Minor! Dry mouth from a healing potion is a minor side effect! Having you skull blow up is pretty major side effect!"

"Minor to the user. You know how hard it is to get brain out of your coat?" at Louise horrified looked he shrugged.

"OK that joke when one to far."

SHIFT  
>The cart rumbled down the road. The three students and Wheatley riding in the back. He was clenching a plasma rifle in his hands as the cart slowly rolled back and forth.<p>

"So something I don't understand. Why have only three students and one familiar volunteered to go find this criminal?" Kirche asked.

Wheatley hissed in derision. "Most people are cowardly on there own. If you volunteer to do something they normally won't do anything content to let you do it."

"If that's so. Then why do you bother?" Louise asked.

"Some times I don't know." Silence, and a hard one at that was the response. Check that he seemed to be muttering under his breath, sounded like a name.

But who was Amata?

On a different note Wheatley spoke up breaking the last chain of thought.

"So if this Foquet can use magic then she's a noble right? So why would she steal from other nobles?"

"Not all nobles are mages." Loungeville said "Some nobles have been demoted to peasant for a wide verity of reasons. Among them some disguise themselves as labors, guards or become trouble makers. Such as thieves or mercenary's. Even I have been demoted from my position of a noblemen."

"Really?" Wheatley asked "How did you lose your nobility?" his level 9 (how the heck does a pipboy know how smart he was? And then give it a number?) intelligence working though the gears of that train of thought.

"How can you be so rude familiar!" Louise shouted standing up on the card to yell at him. That threw his train off the rails.

"I do have a name. I like it when people use It." he said turning on his spot to face Louise.

"How many magic weapons do you have?" Louise asked surprised at the glowing plasma rifle.

"Not magic and don't change the subject." he frowned and then sighed. "You know been playing a bit loose with the whole familiar thing lately. O forget it." he said after a pause. "We have a thief to catch."

The rest of the cart ride was near silent. Only the crackling of the plasma rifle energy broke the silence.

SHIFT

The small team of mages, and Wheatley approached the cabin.

"Right so Foquet's suppose to be in there. How do we keep him in there?" Wheatley asked softly.

"I'll loop around and keep him in there." with that Loungeville just about faded into the foliage as she started to flank the house.

"Right, we wait a few moments then we go in."

"How do you plan to stop Foquet any way?" Louise hissed. "You could not harm his golem to save you life."

"This time he will us me." Derflinger said. At Wheatley's scoff the sword spoke up. "Partner you did everything short of using me lat time. What do you have to lose?"

"Fair point." he said at last atomizing his plasma rifle reluctantly. On second thought he deatomized his Mesmetron.

"Ok then. We have a plan?"

"Yes we send you in and we cover you." Louise said.

"Me?" a affronted Wheatley said. "Why me? Alone?"

"Were mages." Kirche said, "well some of us are any way." before Louise could snap she kept talking. "Were better at range. Beside you have the fancy armor."

"Joy." He said deatomize his stealth armor rather then his power armor.

"And that does?" Kirche asked. In answer he turned invisible with a slight fuff of energy.

"wow." she said. The three of them watched him, or rather tired to keep track of where the grass was moving toward the shack.

"He really worry's me at times." Kirche said. "Aside from the fact I know he can now stay hidden in the girl's dorm when ever he wants. Invisibility is square class spell, a really hard one and he has a suit that does it easily."

Tabitha nodded.

"You sure hes not a mage?" she asked Louise. Before she could answer Wheatly yelled from over by the house.

"Its empty!"

The three mages broke cover and approached the house. A quick wave of Tabitha's staff to clear for traps and they were in.

"Right spread out. Were looking for a,," he paused for a moment. "Honestly speaking I think I missed what he stole."

"Staff of Obliteration." Louise said as the three girls and one wastelander began to poke though the house.

A few minutes of scanning latter the box was found.

"gezz." Wheatly rubbed the back of his head at the box Louise had been sitting on while everyone else looked.

"This staff thing must weigh, 30 pounds." he said rubbing the back of his head.

"How do we carry it?" Louise asked.

"Well some of can manage levitation spells." Kirche said and a wand wave latter the box was a foot in the air.

"humm, somethings off." Wheatley said. "Where's Foquet? He was suppose to be here."

"What do you mean?" Louise asked.

"Trap." Tabitha said. The word was accented by the roof being smashed off by a massive golem fist.

"You don't say!" Wheatley yelled as he deatomized his Gauss rifle and fired into its head.

A second later Tabitha pointed her staff at the Golem, focused and fired.

A twisting piller of storm wind pounded it too the golem. To no effect.

Another blareing thunder clap blast of the rifle had no more effect then the wind storm of a few seconds ago.

Kirche turn was next. Her land lowered and a firestorm pounded into it stumbling it back a few steps. For a moment it looked like it worked only for the flames to go out a moment later with nothing to burn.

"Son of a super mutant how do you kill a boulder?" Wheatley asked. He had give up on the Gauss rifle and was instead atomizing it drawing Derflinger.

The golem raised it arm high, the sun glinting off its massive fist as it readied to smash them.

"Quick forward!" Wheatley called and the small group between the Golems legs.

Once on the other side: "Where's Louise?" a scream from the house gave them there answer.

"O crud we left her behind!" Wheatley yelled, but soon the golem had there full attention.

"I say again: how do we kill this? Or is are plan just run like hell?" Tabitha whistled amplified by wind magic.

"Running is a workable plan don't doubt it." Wheatley continued as he held the Derflinger at ready in front of him.

The ground thumped and the wastelander turned his head to stare into the eye of the dragon, "funny." he thought "a song is in there some were."

SHIFT

The golem had turned away from Louise and was getting ready to "Golem Pawnch!" Kirche, Tabitha and Wheatley. She lifted her wand to do some explosive spells on it, when she remembered the Staff of Obliteration.

She reached for the box and worked the catches lifting the heavy staff out.

Trying to grip it she found her self failing to get a good hold on it.

"How do you use this thing!" she yelled at no one in particular.

SHIFT

Focusing back at the Golem Wheatley looked for Louise back in the ruins of the house.

The whole front wall had been knocked over and he had a clear view in side.

His blood froze.

"Is that a? Where did! O god!" he said at last after sputtering. Yelling over his shoulder he charged forward.

"Cover me!" the golem fist dropped just behind him. As he passed he made sure to slice the left leg in a spray of gravel.

"Good going partner" Derflinger said. Wheatley did not answer.

He ran beside Louise and snatched the staff from her.

Louise mind seemed to view everything detached.

First: he deatomized something and placed it on the staff and with a grunt pulled it back till it dinged into place.

Second he took the staff and cocked it over his shoulder like a builder would hold a big piece of lumber.

She suddenly remembered with the thing he deatomized was called, a mini nook.

He fired.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Who saw that coming?<em>**


	13. After glow

**_Response to: IonutRO: I called it a staff of Obliteration, how much more obvious did i need to be?_**

_**new chapter, not much more to say, read review if you please.**_

_**Also, i don't expect it to come up so i say it here. People in the familiar of zero universe are far more sensitive to radiation then fallout humans due to a lack of previous exposure to the effects. while 100 rad to 101 is unpleasant bit barable, to Louise, it lethal.  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>With a clatter headmaster Osmand put his pipe on the stone terrace and looked over the forest of trees. He sighed.<p>

"Things always get more complicated not less." Professor Colbert tilted his head in confusion.

"What do you mean sir?"

"Let just say," he smiled under his thick beard, "There will be many questions when they come back."

"You think they will be successful?"

"Think?" Osmand said a twinkle in his eye. "I know."

A monstrous thunder clap seemed to explode into life and the two pair of eyes immediately started to scan the sky, it was clear.

"look!" Colbert pointed into the distant forest were a smoke cloud slowly rose skyward. As if shaped by some demonic hand it slowly formed into a rising mushroom like shape as it slowly billowed like a possed thing.

"What is that?" he asked leaning closer, as if a few inches could truly help.

Osmand simply smoked his pipe. "I did not get a chance to see it well last time. But from what I understand: The Staff of Obliteration has just, Obliterated.

"What?" Colbert said in surprised. "The Staff of Obliteration? The artifact that atomized a dragon in one shot! The weapon that poisoned the ground and killed eight people with just a linger of its power! A weapon so powerful that the crown it self ordered no attempt to duplicate its magic?"

"The same." Osmand said seriously. "get the Nurses ready. Tell them to expect three seriously sick students, one human familiar, and one criminal, assuming he has not been atomized like the dragon."

SHIFT

The wind suddenly stopped trying trying to rip Louise clothing off and only a intense silence echoed the clearing.

Coughing Louise tried to clear the vast cloud of dirt, dust and smoke from her face, her entire left arm, the one she had used to protect her face felt burned. Luckily most of her had been behind Wheatley power armor so she was for the most part fine.

As the cloud cleared she looked for the golem, it was nowhere to be seen. Her face felt wet she wiped it only to have it come back red, it then occurred to her what the pieces were.

All that was left of the Golem.

On the other side of the clearing Kirche, Tabitha and Sylphid were hurt by the small shards of rock, luckly for them the better mages survived the blast and flame wave with a quick wind barrier.

Still, there were far from unscathed and they both had burns. Couching Kirche looked over the clearing, the only sign of were the golem once stood was a pile of rock shards.

"What the hell was that!" She said shocked breaking the silence of clearing.

Tabitha grunted leaning on her staff as she stood up. "Staff of Obliteration." she said in her normal monotone, save shaker some how.

"Well you have to earn a title like That , Damn!"

On the other side of the clearing Wheatley stood up he dropped the staff on the ground and leaned against it.

"You OK Louise?" he asked.

"How did you know how to use the staff of Obliteration!" Louise said still in a state of shock. And she looked it too.

Burns on her arm and face, bloody wounds on hand and face, torn clothing, she was a mess. And her stomach was starting to fell, off.

"Fat man."

"Wu?" she said confused unable to form full words.

"Fat man, it what it's called. You know now that I think about the guys back home had to have a sick sense of humor to this name this thing a Fat anything." he looked at his pipboy with a frown "Damn no rad-X, plenty of rad away." frowning he looked at Louise. "Well lets meet up with the others." he drew Derflinger out of the ground where had planted him and started to lead Louise.

The two walked across the ground, if they had bothered to look they wound have found the plants not burnt were slowly dieing any way.

To put it in purple pose, killed by poison from another world.

Once in front of the two girls Wheatley dropped the fat man on the ground and looked them over.

"You two OK?" they both nodded.

"What kind of magic was that?"

"Its not magic, any body can do it if they have ammo and a launcher." he looked back at the shattered golem. "That's not reassuring in the least is it?" He deatomized a bottle of whiskey and a box of bandages.

"Right then lets get started." he uncorked the whiskey with his teeth and spat the cork out. "I'm sorry, but this will sting."

"What is that, that whiskey!" Kirche said surprised.

"Most adaptable fluid I have every met. It is both a drink, a disinfectant, and a anesthetic." he smiled.

"You do know magic can patch us up right?"

"Well, ya but what are you going to do till then?"

"That, wow." the three students and one wanderer turned to face miss Loungeville who was walking up. "I heard story's of the staff but, you,,, destroyed his golem in one blast!"

"Ya." Wheatley said distracted as he began to apply a temporary bandage to Louise arm.

"Can you take it? and did you see Foquet? Were in no shape to get him or fight him right now."

Waving her wand Loungeville drew the staff to her, and flipped it over her shoulder to fire at them.

"She right her!" the three students flinched away in fear, Wheatley did not.

"So you Foquet, how the hell are you not limping? I shot you."

"And let me tell you, it was a bitch." she growled. "bullet went clean though, nothing a healing potion can't fix."

"I see." Wheatley said. Then he coughed into his hand. "You really think your going to blow us apart with that thing?" Foquet nodded.

"And why not?"

"Ingoing for a second your in the blast zone. Its not loaded."

"Loaded?" she said suddenly nervous.

"Ya, loaded." he drew Derflinger. "Bit like a cross bow, only, you know." he gestured to the gravel that was once a golem.

"Now you have two options ever you give up now." he walked forward threateningly. "Or I club into submission and if you run I'll Mez you, have to save those battery's. So, you choice." after pulling the trigger only for it to click annoyingly she dropped it to draw her wand, only for a half second latter a sword pommel, pummeled into her stomach and she fell over in pain.

"Wrong answer." He said. He turned to the students behind him.

"We ready to go?"

Louise fell to her knees, "Suddenly I don't feel so good."

"Do you have a shooting pain in your stomach?" he said nervously. Louise nodded just before she vomited the contents of her stomach.

"Joy." Wheatley said. He walked over, leaving Foquet behind for a moment, he deatomized a Rad away.

"Right stay still," he said after a moment, after a moment of looking he jabbed the needle into a vain in her arm.

"What are you doing?" Kirche asked.

"Curing radiation, its a side effect of the fat man and can make you very sick." Then to Louise. "That will take a while to kick in so your going to feel like shit for a few hours. She just groaned and emptied her stomach again. At Kirche smug look he said to her.

"Mind you, you guys got a less focused blast, still I would not be surprised to see you like her soon."

Kirche immediately clenched her stomach, was it just her, or was a pain beginning to develop?

SHIFT

A group of professors and servants were waiting by one of the doors into the school. There nerves were obvious, at least on the teachers. The likely hood they would lose three students and one sectary, were obvious.

Slowly the wooden wagon began to approach into view. Oddly neither Loungeville nor any of the students were driving.

As it approached Wheatley popped it view, standing from the back of the wagon. He started to yell.

"Quite the reception! Expecting trouble!"

"Yes!" Colbert yelled, his voice getting softer as the wagon approached. "Last time the staff of Obliteration was used three people died from the after effect!" the staff there suddenly looked nervous, obviously no one had told them about that.

"Cured!" Wheatley said back. He stopped yelling as they were now close enough for him to speak normally.

"Its a common side effect back home and we have medicine to treat it."

"Common? Those staff are common back home?" A tired voice from the back of the wagon said.

"No, the side effect of radiation is." He half turned to face Louise then when back to Colbert.

"Right then three things: one. Miss Loungeville is Foquet."

"What!" Colbert started in surprise.

"Ya I know." Wheatley shrugged. "I have yet to give her a does of Rad-away so she still a little under the gamma." after a moment he shrugged and got to his second point.

"Second: can you please find something for Mr Wheeler," he put a hand on the guy driving the cart. "I had no idea how to drive a cart and this guy really helped out." he smiled and tipped his hand.

"No problem sir." Wheatley missed that when he said, sir, he meant as in knight, he still had the power armor on.

"I think I can find something." Colbert said. "The third thing?"

"I want a word with headmaster Osmand."

"That I can't allow just yet." Colbert said. "Why?" Wheatley frowned.

"You used the staff of obliteration. Last time that thing was fired eight people died just from the after effects. You are all going to the nurse office."

"I appreciate the sentiment, I really do but I can take a few rads." Wheatley

"That's not a request." Colbert shook his head. "Of those eight, three of them died even though there only connection to the staff was a family member was there."

"Joy." Wheatley said after figuring out it this was nonnegotiable.

SHIFT

"I suppose you have questions for me?" Headmaster Osmand said to Wheatley.

The two of them were in Osmand office, and they were alone. Osmand had his chair, and Wheatley had the one opposite him.

"Considering I just had a two hours worth of test and magic spells done on I think I got this down to basics." Wheatley had atomized his power armor and now wore a servant uniform as he leaned closer to the older man over the desk between them.

"That weapon, the fat man is from my world. How did it get here?"

"Fat man?" Osmand said surprised. "I expect your people to have a different name for it but, fat man?"

"Don't change the subject."

Osmand sighed and puffed his pipe. "Roughly 30 years ago when I was traveling I encountered a strange knight resting against a tree. I will never forget him." His eyes took a far off look as they remembered that far off day.

"He wore strange armor, his helmet on his lap, a strange musket and pistol, most unlike your, over his shoulder and hip respectively. The staff was leaning on the tree next to him." He puffed on his pipe as he called up more memory's. "He was breathing laboriously and has strange sores on his face, his hands were shaking and he was very thirsty, constantly motioning for my water skin."

"Sounds like highly advance Radiation sickness." Wheatley leaning back in thought. "There was probably nothing you could do for him. With out the knowledge of what was the problem you would have had no hope of helping him."

"That does little to help my conscience ." Osmand said with a sigh. "He spoke a strange language I could not understand and in the end I left him, promising to bring help, I think he understood me and as I left him."

"Then, a mile away I was attacked by a dragon, It was to strong and I was unable to save myself. Then a cry behind me, I turned to see the knight, the Staff of Obliteration, I just can not bring my self to call it Fat anything, over his shoulder, he brought it up and fired."

"The next thing I remember is a bright flash. I came to in a hospital," he drew his arm up and drew his sleeve away reveling a deep, old, burn. "with this on my arm."

"I asked about the knight but he had died from, something, likely the sickness you mentioned long before I woke up. He was the first." he puffed his pipe.

"While I was out I was very sick and it took a trio of water mages to keep my alive and my organs from failure. The five peasants who found me and carried me and the knight, did not have such a luxury, and all of them along two wives and one child, died."

Silence stretched for a minute. Then Wheatley spoke up.

"and the knight?"

"I buried him, his armor and weapons with him, full honors as befits a knight, save this." he reached into a pocket and drew a brotherhood of steel dog tag. "I thought I might be his name, but I have no way of knowing."

"Your right." Wheatley pulled his own tag out from around his neck. "It does have his name. May I see it?" Osmand handed it over and Wheatley looked it over.

"Leroy R Tailor. Those who wait, are sissy's." Osmand almost ate his pipe again. That was his brave, noble knights savior?

"Humm." Wheatley looked at it more closely before handing it back over. "Sounds like a aggressive guy."

"So you have no idea where this knight came from?" Osmand shook his head.

"No I don't." Wheatley sighed. "Well, if some one got here once, then there is a chance I can go back as well." he stood up and smiled at the headmaster. "Thank you for the information."

"Indeed." before Wheatley could leave Osmand spoke up again. "The castle is going to reward you, Louise, Kirche with titles of chevalier, Tabitha is already one so she can not be gifted twice."

"Chevalier? So I have another title?" Wheatley said. Osmand cut him off.

"Its more, by gifting you this title you are being delcared in no uncertain terms a noble man."

"O this fuckening thing again." Wheatley said with a groan "How many times do I have to say it, I am not a noble! I don't have any magic!"

"Of that I have no doubt." Osmand said puffing his pipe. "The problem is, you recall you duel with Count Mott?" Wheatley nodded. "Well Mott has lots of supporters and has a fair bit of political weight behind him. In one of the petty things we nobles are known for he and his whole group has called you a nobleman rather then have there leader risk face by being beaten by a commoner."

"Joy." Wheatley sighed.

"What if I refuse the title? That will make the point loud and clear."

"And insult the entire kingdom? These title are not lightly given."

"crap." Wheatley sighed. "Thanks for the heads up." with that he sighed and left the headmasters office.


	14. Calm,,

_**New, short chapter, sorry about that but if i made this one longer it spill over into a completely different tangent.**_

* * *

><p>Wheatley leaned against a tree, Louise was still ill, though she was feeling better and would be there for her would be there for her own celebratory party.<p>

Right now though he was thinking.

Nobles, commoners, the line between them. Frankly the whole situation was, obsolete to him.

Even given the finest vault tec approved education it would be wrong to say he fully supported the American way, they did end the world mind you. But when every other word praises the glory of democracy something stuck.

His whole commoner, noble issue was the prompter for this train of thought. At the end of the day, did he care? Call him what they wanted it would not change him.

Still it was a lie. And that sat wrong with him.

Though he did not know it he was watched. Slowly she walked up on the and almost chipperly spoke up.

"Hello Wheatley."

Shaken from his contemplations he half turned to face the speaker.

"Hay Siesta you on a break right now? I could use some outside perspective."

"What is it?" she asked a surprised look on her face. He did not answer, only patted the ground next to him. She sat down next to him.

"Ok Siesta here my problem. I'm not a noble but every noble thinks, or is trying to convince themselves and each other I am."

"That's a problem?" Siesta said confused. At Wheatley puzzled look she clarified. "A lot of people would kill to be in your shoes. To be a noble, to finally get respect."

"Ya, and have Mott be a esteemed peer? I'd rather give a super mutant a blow job."

"What's that?" Siesta naively asked.

Some were a 12 pound iron lock bar dropped in a maximum security prison built out of solid rock on a island in the middle of the ocean. **"You don't want to know."** silence stretched then he sighed. "I'm not a noble yet everyone seems to think I am."

"Well, nobles are rulers. Do you rule anything?"

"Back home?" Wheatley leaned back. "Not a thing. I was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel though."

"are they Knights?"

"Well not as you know it, erug, yes." he put his head in his hands. His own vault tec education providing the next bit.  
>"And Knights were noblemen. O joy."<p>

In the silence he looked up at the tree and watched a squirrel chattered to it self as it ate a nut.

"Would a nobleman eat a squirrel, because I really would once upon a time."

"A squirrel?" Siesta asked surprised. She was a commoner so eating rodents at time was not unknown, and depending how you cooked one a squirrel was quite good. She just could never imagine Wheatley to do it.

"Ya, I think I have one." he lift his pipboy up in a gesture. "Not like I'm going to eat it now mind you." Silence.

Wheatley stood up with a sigh. "Well if I'm going to be dubbed a noble one thing best is gotten straight."

"And that is?" Sesita asked. Wheatley smiled and extended his hand to help her up.

"I'll still be human. I will still care."

SHIFT

_A building, no, not just a building, her home! Louise smiled at the sight._  
><em>It was a spring day, flowers in full bloom, a riot of color, scents and sounds as bee buzzed lazily between each ripe flower.<em>

_Laughing in joy of the day she ran into the garden, twirling in the flowers like she had when she was a child._  
><em>Suddenly she stopped turning to face her home, smiling in glee of life. Her sister, Cattleya stood on the back door smiling back.<em>

_Then it all went away._

_A flash of light from behind her house. A massive blast wave of flame washing over the house, timbers went flying, shingles, nails, it was all removed and sent flying, her sister, atomized, the flames washing over her before she knew she was dead._

_The blast front burned everything before it, it touched Louise._

She woke up with a scream, panting.

Her hand lept to her heart, it was pounding.

She knew what was real. The dream was not, the fact she was in the nurse's office was, the fact that EVERYTHING Wheatley said was right was.

"Believe it or not we destroyed are world with those things."

"all I had left was a list of target and a hammer to beat them down."

"I learned early on there are two ways to help people. One: Find ways to help them live. Two: Kill people who would harm them. Either way helps."

"The wasteland is a hard place to live. Its kill or be killed as I have told you. What made you think I would be exempt from that?"

The realization of just what kind of world Wheatley came from crashed hard around her ears.

A dead one. A world killed by men, not god.

She now had what amounted to a horsemen of the Apocalypse, a herald of a burned planet, as her familiar.

God!

A plow slammed into her face.

"Could you keep it down Louise? I'm still not feel well." Normally Kirche's discomfort would be enjoyable.

Not now.

Not when she had to ask her self this question.  
>If a noble protected his familiar from harm, and she was a zero.<p>

Then who was the familiar, and who was the noble?

SHIFT  
>IT was night, the celebratory party was going on in the back ground. As Wheatley try out the title had been introduced as.<p>

"Paladin Wheatley James, Chevalier? Or is it Chevalier Paladin Wheatley James?" Wheatley stood out on the balcony as the party went on behind him.

Party, he scoffed at the thought. To a person who grew up on 60 era swing dancing and nothing else, it was quite, uncelebrated.

"Hay partner I got to ask you something." Wheatley took a sip out of his small wine glass before he answered.

"It's a free," he frowned; this place was screwing with this metaphors. "OK, it's not a free country Derflinger , but talk away."

"Why don't you like using me?" Wheatley swished the wine in the glass around.

"If you mean with Foquet then the option was between you and a fat man."

"Ya I'll give you that." Derflinger replied. "But before that, you really don't like using me. You only did when everything else you tried failed."

"How long are you Derflinger?"

"60 inches of high grade tempered Damascus steel the last of an art." he said proudly.

"Normally I kill some one from 400 feet away. That's roughly 80 times as long as you are. Frankly in my world swords were only for those who could not afford bullets." he took another drink of his wine. "So, you want me to give you to some what who want to use you? I won't hold it against you."

"No partner, I'm been a sword for ever and my partner has always been Gandalfr. Beside I have more then a few tricks up my self that you stinking guns can't do."

"Like?" Before Wheatley got his answer a herald gave a announcement. "Introducing Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière?"

He turned to watch as the pink haired girl walk up the stair, her dress just about the same color of her hair.

"She had that in her dresser?" Wheatley asked himself. He quickly plotted her path. She was heading toward him warding off people asking to dance with her with the ease he brushed off flies.

Soon she was in front of him. Wheatley may only have been wearing a servants uniform, (and god knows just how many nobles had done a spit take at that!) and she a silk dress but it was clear form there body language they were equals.

She finally spoke. "I wish to apologize, Wheatley."

"I'm flattered. For what?"

"I did not believe you, about you world being ruined, not truly. But, after you showed me what you could do."

"You do believe me." Wheatley said nodding. "Well, I'm glad but it does not change much on are end. I still need to head back."

"Why? It's a hell hole. You said as much your self." Louise said simply, confused.

"It's my hell, and I have a commitment to make it a even better place to live." He turned and looked back up at the moons. "Don't get me wrong, I like this world. But my own needs me. I am the friggen Lone Wanderer. I keep that place from blowing apart at the seams."  
>Silence stretched between them.<p>

A conductor announced a new dance song.

Louise coughed into her hand changing the subject.

"Do you wish to dance?"

"I,really don't know how to dance your way. Remind me to show you swing dancing some time."

"Swing dancing?" she thought about it, but changed her mind about asking about it. "Well, its not that hard." she extended her hand.

Wheatley thought about it, before emptying his glass in one gulp. "What have I got to lose?" he took it.


	15. Love potion chaos

**_here we go_**

**_also I'm trying something out. When Wheatly chewen out Montmorency I don't call him by name but by his pseudonyms the point was to make it clear there a difference between these two persona and to tell when he's using his "Wasteland Messiah tone of voice" If you guys don't like it I'll go change it._**

* * *

><p>Summer break, a time where students went home, or chose to stay over the break.<p>

Right now it was evening, the moons hung low over the sky, crickets chirped in the dark.

Wheatley was thumbing though a children book under a tree by the light of his pipboy. He had set himself a goal, lean to read by the end of summer break.

Beside him Siesta, who thanks to the reduced student number had plenty of free time to help him. The two were chatting to each other, some joke, or something.

Louise huffed away from the window and flumped heavily onto her bed.

"What does he see in that commoner?" she muttered to her self. Then again he could be close to Kirche so there was that.

That said with his new noble status a lot of girls were interested in him now. He was more then a familiar, he was Paladin Wheatley of the Brotherhood of Steel.

She sighed, then finally came to a decision. She would go down and join him, not like she had anything else to do, the little Tsundere rationalized to her self.

Quickly she stood up and left her room, her shoes clicking down the empty hall way echoing very slightly.

Down a stair case she stood before the door and opened it quickly. A mild cry of pain echoed and Louise quickly emerged into the cool night air.

"Montmorency?" she asked the blond water mage. "You ok?" the mage was holding a tray with a couple drinks on it, some of them had spilled out a little on to her, but not a lot.

"Watch it zero." she snapped back, her harsh word driven by the fact that a door knob had just been driven into her side. The drinks on her shirt were not helping the situation.

"You watch it!" she said back. In a huff she snatched one of the drink off her tray and gulped it down slamming it back and before she could say anything Louise had marched off.

For a second Montmorency was slack jawed, her face flashed though fear, anger, frustration and nerves. She really had no idea what to feel.

She settled on trepidation.

SHIFT

"See the red dog run over the blue fence... god I feel stupid." Wheatley read, then said putting the book on his lap.

"Your get it eventually." Sestia said back with a smile.

"Ya, way I see it's like field stripping a rifle. Just repetition, repetition, repetition till you can do it blind folded. Does not mean I don't feel stupid saying it out loud though." Wheatley said leaning back then sighing he dove back into the fray.

"The fence is, nice? Odd choice of words." he commented. "So Sestia whats your home like?" he said asking about it for a break.

"Tarbes? Its not a very big town but quite friendly. At time I miss it a lot. Working at the school was my first time really away from home. My Great grandfather almost threw a fit when he heard."

"Really what over?" Wheatley asked.

"He just does not like nobles, at all. Come to think of it most of the towns like that." She put her hand to her chin in thought. "I don't think are lord has ever visited are town. Were mostly just left alone."

"Given what I've seen of nobles that does not sound that bad." Wheatley commented.

A flash of pink in the corner of his eye drew his attention. "Speak of the devil," he said softly. Siesta giggled lightly.

"Louise glad to see you." despite his few second ago pun he meant it. He frowned. As she approached he took in her face and it was about the color of a boiled lobster. "You OK? You look, red."

He stood up and quickly placed his hand on her forehead and deatomizeing a thermometer.

"Here put this under you tongue." he put it her mouth.

For a second she stood there, red in the face a tube of glass in her mouth. She spat it out.

"What do,, you, think ,,, your doing." her voice seemed to slur slightly and her sense of balance seem to go, and she almost seemed to stumble about.

"ya," Wheatley said after a moment. "I think your high." he turned to Siesta. "are there any drugs that do that,, ACK!" he shouted that last one as Louse lunged at him hugging him like a lion not wanting to let its prey go.

"That does not matter! The only high thing is my love for you!"

As he tried to wrestle the pink haired electro magnet off him he lost his balance and the two ended up on the ground.

Struggling he finally got a grip on her arms and pried them off gun and held her at arms length as they sat on the ground.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong my love! I must ask must why do you scorn me for this maid!"

"I, wa? , hu? wait what!" now his face was like a lobster. He shifted Louise around and turned to face Siesta.

"What the Water Drunk fuck is wrong with her?" he was just about holding her off with his foot keeping it on her stomach as she tried to kiss him.

"I, err." this whole thing was coming really fast and she had trouble processing it. "I think it a Aphrodisiac, a love potion." she said at his confused look. "There illegal but we were taught about there effects in school just in case."

"So what do they do? Make you fall in love with the firs person you see?"

"Pretty much."

"Where the heck would she have drunk one of those?" Wheatley growled. Some how the thing seemed worse then a slave collar, maybe because it screwed with your mind rather then just your freedom.

"It would have taken a water mage to make one of those." Seista started. Wheatley glared around.

There! Trying to be secretive, only her hair poking out form around a corner.

"Remind me: Montmorency is a water mage, correct?" Siesta nodded.  
>Quickly he carefully threw Louise about a yard to his left, stood up and started to run all in a half second.<p>

"Montmorency!" He shouted as he charged forward. She squeaked in fear and ducked out of sight.

Skidding around the corner he scanned around, there! A door that led to the dorms closing.

He pursued.

SHIFT

In her room Montmorency slumped in a chair, panting holding her hand over her chest.

The door opened and she just about had a heart attack. It went away.

"It's only you Guiche." she sighed in relief. "quick lock the door behind you!"

"Only me? My dear Montmorency, what could be wrong?" he asked. "I heard from a number of people you were running all over the school in a panic." he locked the door as she told him. "What could possible incite such fear?"

The door behind him was kicked off it hinges. It fell inward like a mouse trap pinning Guiche to the ground with a cry of surprise and pain.  
>In stomped the Lone wander, the terror of the Enclave, slayer of super mutants, the raider ripper, a man who carried a pair of clippers to take fingers off the evil people he killed.<p>

His face was hard as rock he leaned his foot on the door pressing almost 900 pounds of atomized gear into Guiche back, enough to make a point but not to truly harm.

"Hello Monmon." his voice was so cold. She had pressed the one button you do not press if you want a long life, the slavery button. "I do believe we may have a problem. Did you or did you not make a Aphrodisiac and give it to Louise?"

"It was for Guiche!" she said in fear.

"WHAT!" the blond boy said from under the door. "You were going to use a Aphrodisiac on me?"

"Frankly I don't care who you were planning to use it on, the point is you were planning to use it and that's against the law."

He deatomized a whiskey bottle and took a swig of it for emphases. "Do you know what we do to people who break the law back home?"

Heart pound, she shook her head no.

"We'd shoot them, two in the head."

"Now hold on there!" Guiche said. By now he had worked his torso out far enough that he could stare up at 101 from the ground. He worked his arm out and pointed his wand at him. "Montmorency may be a bit clingy but I will not stand by and allow you to harm a single hair on her lovely head!"

Montmorency heart rose at the sign of affection.

"O Guiche!" she mummered blushing.

"Relax blondie." the Lone Wanderer said with an eye roll. "I'm not going to shoot any one, I just said what we likely do back home. Is there a cure?"

"Yes!" Montmorency said quickly. "But I can't make it! The last ingredient is tricky to get! Water spirit tears are rare!"

"Can you get these tears?"

"I would have to go all the way to lake Lagdorian,," at his hard look she sighed "I'll go,," what she said was cut off.

"Tomorrow." The Lone Wanderer said, "Me and Louise will join you and we go get this tear thing." Montmorency head bobbed like a bouy as she nodded.

A cry to Wheatley left pivoted his head to the left.

"Wheatley! There you are! How dare you leave me alone!"

"Definitely Tomorrow." he said softer. He stepped off the door pinning Guiche to the ground and took off at a run to the right.

A pink blur ran by the door way.

"Moron! moron! Moron! How stupid must you be to not recognize my love for you!"

The sound of there footsteps faded away, as did Louise potion addled yelling.

For a moment the two people were still then Guiche worked himself the rest of the way out from under the door. He propped it back upright in its proper place.

"Well now I know what you were terrified of. I must say after being on the wrong end of his gun he is quite scary."

Montmorency rest her hand over her heart feeling the organ's beat slow down. "Guchie, would you really have fought him?"

"I must say, I did not want to, I've heard it said that he got a magic sword to replace the one he broke in are duel. Some students swear it can talk. But I would have done so in a heart beat." he fell to one knee and extended an arm like he was Romero serenading Juliet on the balcony. "For you my lovely Montmorency."

She smile some, not all, of the stress of today melting at his both his sincerity and cheesiness.

"O Guiche." she stood up, took his arm and pulled him upright.

She kissed him.

SHIFT

The next day the two of them were saddling three horses.

"I see were all ready." Montmorency tensed up at his voice, but Wheatley was not using his, Wasteland Messiah tone any more so it was not that bad. The she and Guiche turned to face a very sleep deprived Lone Wanderer.

He had massive bags under his eyes amber eyes, his glasses only making them look bigger, his hair was a mess and he was generally unhappy.

He was carrying a sleeping Louise in his arms almost like a potato sack, but much more carefully.

"Your late." Guiche said "You said leave tomorrow and yet your the last to show up."

"Look Guiche, you right I know it. But quite frankly I had a shitty night and coffee had not be invented for you guys yet so lets just get going going."

"What did happen to you last night?" Montmorency asked.

"I could not sleep for fear she would crawl into the be next to me. And if I have to give one more god damn good night kiss I will fricken hit some one," he looked at Montmorency very pointedly. "With a stick. So lets get going." He vaulted onto the horse. "How do I control this mammal?"

"I thought you said you weigh over 900 pounds?" Guiche asked.

"I do, normally. I asked the headmaster if I could dump most of my gear of my gear in the vault. I only have the Perforator, Ol' Painless, a ten mill pistol along with six clips of 5.56 ammo, four .308 stripper clips and ten mag for the pistol. Along with my full medical kit." he stretched a smile on his face.

"Let me tell you I feel great! Like I could lift a truck!"

"What about me partner?" Derflinger asked.

"I was only counting stuff I've atomized." he said back. "So, seriously, how do I control this quadruped?


	16. Water spirit

**_new chapter, the next chapter will be loser because i have other story's to work on. Bjin and zero really wants a update and its on my list! _**

**_That said, I am really beepen looking forward to Albion, fun, fun fun.  
><em>**

* * *

><p>It had been a almost day hard ride to get to the lake. The four of them stood on a hill over looking it, each hold there horses reigns, while Louise pressed Wheatley hand to her forehead like it was made of hand lotion.<p>

"You know, some how I think houses are suppose to be above water." Wheatley commented.

"The lake spirit must be angry about something." Montmorency said. "Very angry to have risen the water level so drastically."

"Since were here were deal with that as well."

"What!" Montmorency said surprising her horse which snorting as a complaint. "Its going to be hard enough getting the tear much less get the tear and reduceing the water level!"

"Ya well," he sighed in frustration. If it was just his own annoyance he would just go for the water and ignore the tear. But given just how screwed up Louise was.

He glared at the small girl who was mauling his hand. He pulled it sharply back.

"I'll need that hand latter thank you very much." he took a calming breath. Not even Clover had this bad even when he first,,, acquired her.

She started to tear up "But my love." before she could go farther he gave her the hand back.

"Just don't cry, I don't think my nerves could take it." then to Montmorency "Let get the tear then, but for the record I wish to have you ask after we get it."

"Right." Montmorency said and the four walked down to the shore.

SHIFT

"So how do you plan to get the spirits attention? Shoot the water?" Wheatley asked. The sun was falling and twilight was rising. The occasional house could be seen emerging from the lake from there place on the shore. Not as many as the hill but a fair number. Louise was, luckily sleeping. Maybe Aphrodisiacs made one sleep all the time?

"Nothing so crass." Montmorency said. She took her frog familiar off her shoulder, pricked her finger with a needle and placed a drop of blood on its head.

"go Robin find the water sprite and tell her a old friend who made a contract with her." the frog puffed it checks out and jumped into the water.

"So how long do we wait?"

"In the past my father made a contract with the water spirit. If the spirit remembers it will show up."

"And we need to get a tear? Do we tell sad story's or something?"

"You moron." Montmorency said with a sigh. "It just called a tear. We need the water spirit to split off part of its body for us."

",,,Which part?" Wheatley asked. Before Montmorency could complain to him the lake trembled.

Almost with out warning a pillar of water roared upward like a reverse waterfall, not a drop falling back down to gravity.

The piller soon took form, water pushing in, then out, the piller grew arms, and it took the form of a women with, curly hair?

"Why does she look like you?" Wheatley whispered Montmorency.

"Shutup." she whispered sharply back.

The giant 5 story tall women spoke.

"I remember you, I remember the fluid which courses and pumps though you body. What do you ask of me?"

"We, respectfully request a small piece of your body." Montmorency.

"I denies you request young one."

"But,," Before Montmorency could make a further argument on there behalf Wheatley put a hand on her shoulder and step in front of her.

"Perhaps we can reach a deal? What can we do for you in return for this tear?"

"Perhaps we can." The sprite intoned. "I am busy, increasing the water level and can not deal with the attackers."

"Attackers?" Guiche asked.

"yes, some of your kind are attacking me for some reason, I know not why. I want you to stop them."

"Who would be insane and powerful enough to attack a water spirit?" Guiche asked.

"How should I know." Montmorency asked.

"Alright I'll do it!" Wheatley shouted up at the massive water spirit.

SHIFT

"So what kind of mage are we looking at?" Wheatley asked.

It was night and the three of them, four counting Louise, were waiting in ambush along a well walked path to the lake.

He was scanning the road with the scope on his Perforator.

"Likely a wind mage." Guiche said. "With strong enough wind magic you could walk on the bottom of the lake and get to the spirit that way."

"Which is foolish. Wheatley said.

"Well how would you do then?" Montmorency asked.  
>"If I had to fight a lake sprit I would not bother with getting close to her I'd just dam the rivers feeding the lake and then drain as much water off as I could." Louise grabbed his head and pulled it away from the scope.<p>

"You spend all your time talking to Montmorency! Do you love her more then me!"

Wheatley rubbed his eye, in grabbing his head Louise had jammed the scope into his eye.

"Of,, course not Louise, were talking about something important. But you know what you can do for me?"

"What is my love?"

"You can stay here and be quiet, it would make my day."

"I'll be as quiet as a mouse!" Louise yelled at the top of her lungs.

"That potion really does work." Montmorency said. Her heard beat up as the Lone Wanderer glared at her.

"Don't be proud of yourself Monmon."

He put his eye back to the scope.

"Got them. I see two people by the water." he pulled his eye from the scope weighing his option.

Shooting: no option, given the recent flooding these two likely had a good reason for attacking.

"Right then." crouching he sneaked away though the forest.

A yard further a voice behind him softly spoke.

"You have a plan?" he half turned to face Guiche as he kept moving.

"Your helping? Well think you but I don't think your aid will be needed." He said with a smile.

The two paused behind a pair of trees.

"Right if anything goes wrong then hammer them. Understand?" Guiche nodded.

"Of course." Guiche said proudly. Wheatley nodded and quickly got out from behind the tree and sped stealthily toward the two.

Just as Wheatley was almost a foot away still he spun around, perhaps he heard something?

In less than a second he bull rushed him to the ground, drawing Derflinger as he spun to face his companion.

He got one word off. "Tabitha!" then the blade was pressed to his stomach, the Perferator was pointing at the man he had knocked over, held in one hand much like a pistol.

Then the name clicked. "Tabitha?" he turned his head to face the blue haired girl on the ground, he then pivoted his head to the other person, who pulled the hood of her head reveling her long red hair. "Kirche? What the hell are you two doing here?" he atomized the Perferator as he sheathed Derflinger

He leaned to the right as he extended his hand for Tabitha to grab it.

"We could ask you the same thing Wheatley! What do you think you're doing bashing people around in the middle of the night?"

"I was,,, Guiche! Monmon! Louise come out here, if I have to explain this then you do too." he sighed and shook his head as he finished helping Tabitha upright.

"You alright?" she nodded, which was expect he was just trying to knock them down not break their spines.

"Look to be brief Louise drunk an aphrodisiac and we need a water spirit tear. To get that we had to deal with the attackers, who are you two."

"How did that happen?" Kirche asked.

As the other members of the group arrived Wheatley glared at Montmorency.

"Ask Monmon here." He said sharply. "She made it."

Louise bounded up behind Montmorency  
>like a puppy who had just done a good deed.<br>"I was really quiet just like you asked my darling!"

"Wow, I don't know if this is funny as hell or sad as sin." Kirche said off hand with a smile.

"Shut it Kirche! My love for Wheatley is pure you Germanium whore!" Louise shouted at Kirche as she squeegeed as close to Wheatley as she could.

Holding her hand to her face Kirche hid a smile. "OK, it funny."

"Glad you're enjoying yourself." Wheatley growled.

"So what now? I take you two were trying to drop the water level?"

"Yes, the waters, threatening Tabitha's estate." Kirche said a bit quickly. Wheatley ignored it.

"I thought so; we should ask what is making the spirit so angry in the first place. Then we can get the water level to normal, stop you guys from fighting her, get a tear and then turn Louise back to normal."

"Impressive." Guiche said "In less than ten seconds you've solved every ones problem."

"It's a gift." Wheatley said.

SHIFT  
>A quick summoning a few minutes latter the water spirit was before them again.<p>

"Why are you flood the lake? That's what made the people attack you in the first place?" Wheatley shouted up at the massive water spirit.

"I had a treasure stolen from me, a ring I held very dear to me. I can only exist in water, therefore my only way to regain the ring is to flood the world with water."

"Is that even possible?" Wheatley asked.

"It can't be helped." Montmorency said with a sigh. "because the spirits are immortal there frame of time is different. By the same token they have problems understanding are thought process since were so short lived.

"Well then," Wheatley "I'll do it!" turning to face the water spirit he yelled in his more authority voice. "I'll find this ring and return it! Whats it's name and who took it?"

"Wheatley! That easy to say,," Kirche started, only to be cut off by the water spirit. "The Ring of Andvar one of humans who stole was named: Cromwell, that is all I know."

"Right, I promise I'll find this Cromwell and return this ring to you. So I promise!"

"Wheatley, don't take this the wrong way, but who would believe some random stranger?" Guiche said pointed.

"I would." The spirit intoned she did not move, but a small vial was levitated though the air into Guiche hands.

"Gandalfr made me a promise, a long time ago and kept it. If it is from Gandalfr it is worth believing. I shall also reduce the water level, provided there are no more attacks."

"There won't." Tabitha said. The spirit did not reply. It disappeared, the water falling back down into the lake proper.

Whealtey smiled, took a breath then glared at Montmorency. "Can you make it here or do we have to go back to the school?"

"We would have to go back." She said quickly "I don't have the lab to make it here."

"Joy, lets get going the sooner we get back the sooner we can get Louise back to normal."

SHIFT

Louise paced back and forth in her room. A small storm cloud of frustration, anger and no small embarrassment followed her.

The cure had been administered a few minutes ago and after chewing Montmorency out for a few minutes had retreated to her room.

Wheatley sat on the bed, a grumpy tired expression on his face.

"Your carving a groove in the floor." he said dryly.

She spun on her heel. "I made a moron of my self for two whole day! Throwing my self at you like a bad romance novel! How would you be!"

"Could be worse. Least your brain came out of this mind game intact." even putting five bullets into Tobar's skull really did not make that feel better.  
>His words did not help. "Sure that could be worse, but how is that suppose to help me now!"<p>

"You want to go shoot something?" Louise stopped.

"What?"

"You want to go shoot something." He repeated. "When I'm having a seriously bad day I go find some drugged out Raider or Talon merc and kill them. Quite frankly it both a stress release and making the wasteland a better place."

"We don't have any raiders." Louise snapped back for a moment the reality of the statement skidded over her head. Two days latter when she was getting something to eat the horror of that statement set it and she promptly was not hungry any more."

"Well how bout some pumpkins? Or melons? I really think I'm getting a bit rusty."

Louise sighed. "Fine."

SHIFT

CRACK!

The sharp bang of a hunting rifle echoed though the school compound.

"Your doing it wrong." Wheatley criticized, Louise glared back.

"This thing is huge! And you expect me to shoot it?" the impromptu firing range had been formed in the court yard. The target, a melon was both siting on some wooden posts and so far unharmed.

Standing almost 40 paces away Wheatley was trying to show Louise how to use a Hunting rifle, Ol' Painless.

"You have a stump to rest the gun on, so that should not be a problem. You need to look down the sights." he gently pressed her head down closer to the gun. "Those two chunks of metal? You need to line them up and then fire." after a moment he asked.

"You got it?" at her nod he continued. "Work the bolt." she spent a half second struggling with it, but she got it.

"Fire at will."

"Since when did we name the Melons?" she asked leaning away from the weapon.

"Will, as in free will when you decided. And do be carefully, that my last stripper clip I have on me." he had yet to reload from the gear he stored in the vault.

She put her head back to the weapon, took aim, and fired.  
>This time the melon exploded in a plume of red flesh and seeds.<p>

"I did it!" Louise said proudly, the melon that for the last 15 bullets had been mocking her was no more. Wheatley was right with a proper distraction she was feeling better.

"ya," Whealtey frowned as he started to pick up the spent brass. He glared at one of the offending cartridges in his hand.  
>"I just wish I could replace these things. I spend a bullet its gone for good." he atomized and it fellows on the ground.<p>

"I don't suppose you let me have that would you?"

The two of the spun to face,,,

"princess!" Louise squeeked dropping the rifle and falling to her knees

"carefully. Wheatley sighed. "This thing is older then your mother." he atomized the blue light of the weapon flowing into his pipboy.

"And to answer you question. No, hell no." Louise was about to go on a long speel about being loyal to the princess, about doing everything one could to support one nation, she in fact turned to face him raising a finger,.meeting his eyes, only to back down suddenly.

The sheer intensity of the Lone Wanderer glare stunned her for a moment. "That last thing I want to set off a world conquer armed with weapons from before the war."

"She would never,"

"She may not," 101 said forcefully cutting Louise off. "But would the next king and or queen? Or the one after that? Once one release a can of worms, once one fire a bullet, put a brush to paper, you can not take it back." he made a note to atomize all his stuff in the vault as soon as possible. The last thing he wanted was Mott with a laser pistol.

Wheatley then turned to Henrietta. "So why are you visiting." Henrietta face took a harder look.

"I have a favor I need to ask."


	17. La Rochelle

**_Finally! Albion, i have been looking forward to this more then you can believe.._ **

* * *

><p>"A letter? You need us to go to Albion, which by the way is in the middle of a Civil war, to get a letter." Wheatley said as he leaned against the wall.<p>

Louise glared at him from her prone 'bowing' position. Shrugging he reached over and grabbed a chunk of gun cut melon and took a bite.

"Yes." Henrietta said.

"Well good." he said around his melon. Swolling it he spoke up. "If this letter so important,"

"It is." Henrietta said. "If this letter gets out then my marriage, and by extension the Alliance with Germania will be canceled."

"Then I'm all for it. About time I lived up to my title and Wandered, seriously I think this is the longest time I have ever been in one place." He looked thoughtful then shook his head. "

"As am I Princes!" Louise said. Before Wheatley could comment a third voice chimed "I as well!" pivoting all three people turned to face Guiche, who was just about wearing a set of pajamas.

"What are you doing up?" Louise asked her temper rising.

"Well I was going to tell you to keep it down, I mean that thing is loud and some of us are trying to sleep. But when I overheard this quest why I could not resist myself and just have to aid my nation."

He quickly walked up as he talked and fell to his knees "I, Guiche De Gramont would be honored to assist on this mission."

"De Gramont, son of the general De Gramont?" Henrietta asked somewhat surprised.

"The same my princess."

"If we could get back on track for five seconds." Wheatley said somewhat annoyed. "Let's get back to the main point that you are just about asking children to go into a war zone, to get a MacGuffin for you and need I remind you that no one here, much less me, has any formal training."

"That not true!" Guiche snapped "My father was a great general and he insisted that I learn combat training."

"O ho, ho!" Wheatley said with smacking his fist into his palm. "That's why you were so gung hoe to duel me even after seeing me take out that Death Claw!"

"You dueled?" Henrietta said surprised.

"Very one sided." Wheatley commented as Guiche turned red in the face.

"Still I rest the point that Louise at least has no combat training. Guiche and me maybe but her?"

"Would you try and stop her?" Henrietta said smuggly. After casting a glance at Louise and seeing the determination seem to sparkle off her he glanced and Henrietta accusingly. "Ya I'll give you that."

"I don't expect trouble." Henrietta said. "And even so I'll be assigning an escort."

"Joy then." Wheatley said at last. "So when do we start?"

SHIFT

The next day.

"You know, I hate this, I really do."

Quit complaining." Louise snapped lightly back. "With your mass it is pretty much the only option."

"Hump." He slumped down making the whole cart squeak on unreliable hinges.

Some time massing hundreds of pounds was very unpleasant.

Especially when you had to keep up with horses.

Guiche was sat next to him, not one to over look a comfy ride.

"Cheer up." Guiche said lightly. "We are on a gallant quest for the good of our nation, a journey that will make or break the future of Trestain!"

"Please sit down you getting patriotism in my hair." Wheatley said dryly to the posturing noble.

The cart shook lightly on it hinges and the two guys in the back looked at each other surprised, before Louise cryed out in surprise.

"GET OFF ME!"

The two of them quickly looked to Louise, who had been standing next to the left wheel of the cart.

"Pinned under a giant mole, their symbolism there, I don't know where but it's there."

She struggled to keep the thing off her the massive Talpidae single mindedly following her hand.

"It must be the ring." Guiche commented as the two watched the spectacle. "My precious Verdandi has always had a thing for pretty gems."

"I am not feeding the water ruby to any mole!" Louise shouted

"So what? Their like catnip to him? Or do they taste good?" Wheatley asked ignoring her for a second.

"I suppose he likes to eat them," Guiche said in thought, "I've never really let him have any. Really expensive tastes and all that. "

"Would the two of you stop watching and HELP ME UP!" Louise just about screamed from under the Mole.

"Right, this has been fun, but off goes the mole." Swinging off the cart, (which groaned in relief) he started to reach for the mole.

Started as before he got near, from nowhere a almost lance of wind impact the mole and sent it flying.

Three things happened; one Guiche went to comfort it, two Louise was stunned for a moment by the sudden lack of subterranean mammal and stood up a half second later, three Wheatley went nuts.

In those three seconds he fell to one knee, deatomized his hunting rifle and power armor and took aim into the morning mist.

"Verdandi!" Guiche yelled and ran to comfort his poor familiar. "Who is resposable! He started to yell pointing his wand the same direction as Wheatley rifle, he paused a moment when he noticed that fact.

"Well, this is a tad ironic." Wheatley commented in the grungy tone the power armor helmet gave him.

Before Guiche could respond the shooter of the air bolt emerged before them with a flap of the wings of his mount landed in-front of them.

"A, a Griffin." Guiche said surprised then he rallyed.

"A griffin?" Wheatley sounded somewhat surprised in his helmet. "Is there any fantasy thing not in this world?"

"Who are you!" Guiche said Wheatley comment ignored. What was not Ignored was Wheatley working the bolt on his rifle the clicking of the bolt a bit like a death threat to those who knew what it meant.

"Only if your friend put the gun down." he said in a hard tone. Wheatley did just that, the gun and helmet atomizing into his pipboy.

"And, you are?" Wheatley asked carefully

"He looked, finally showing his face out from under his hat.

"I am Wards, leader of the Griffin squadron and I am to be your escort to Albion."

Looming over them the mage atop his Griffin he just radiated magical power. Swinging his leg he with practiced ease dropped out of the saddle.

"But I do believe you already know who I am right Louise my dear?"

SHIFT

"Does anyone see anything wrong with the age difference between Louise and Wards?" Wheatley asked as he sat in the back of the cart, very annoyed and somewhat embarrassed by the situation as Guiche had been forced to drive.

Riding ahead of them was Wards atop his griffin, and Louise on his lap.

"He is the commander of the Griffin squadron, a hero of Tristain." Guiche commented proudly. "We should be honored to have him escort us. I can think of few other people," he stopped and began to do some soul searching for a polite word on the subject.

"All well and good but I must ask about relative ages, he's, what? 40?"

"60." Wardes shouted back somehow over hearing the conversation. Wheatley was shamed that he had been over heard. "oh,, well, I umm, Looking good for a preindustaly society." He called back sheepishly.

"Thanks, I think." He called back. Whatley spent the rest of the trip in a little corner of shame not saying a word. Not even to ask why they were going up a mountine to get on a ship.

SHIFT

Once they had entered the town Wheatley, have spared himself a several mile journey (that he could not possibly have walked, and kept pace with the horses as they were in a bit of a hurry) finaly started walking pace with the horses. His eyes glared around taking in the sights.

"Is every building made of rock? Guiche smiled and looked superior on his high horse as he trotted alongside Wheatley.

"But of course. Every building was carved out by a square class earth mage, a marvel of magic and will power. What do they build city out of back home?" he asked smugly.

"Steel." Wheatley smugly said with a smile. As Guiche tried to figure out how you build a city of steel without mages the four man group reached the hotel.

Sliding off his Griffin Wards spoke to the group. "I'll go rent a room, I shall be back shortly."

Guiche followed him in.

"Sure leave it all to me, thats great." Wheatley grumnped as he started to unpack the horse Guiche had rode in the, the cart sold at first opportunity

"It was a arrange marriage." Putting the bundle down Wheatley turned to face Louise.

"I figured that." Wheatley commented. "In the end its your choice." He said with a shrug.

"That's it?" Louise said somewhat offended." My choice?" Little warning alarms began to go off in Wheatley's head.

"Well ya, I don't have a say in your life, only you do." He tried to rally slightly. Still the damage was done. In a huff Louise spun around and marched back to Wardes.

Muttering a word under his voice Wheatley went back to unload the horse.

"What did you say partner?" Derflinger asked.

"I said I hate Tsunderes!" he snapped back.

SHIFT

That evening over dinner Wheatley felt he was being examined like a ant by Wardes.

To either side sat Louise and Guiche, Louise still not talking to him and Guiche ogling the waiters.

"You know Louise, you have summoned a most interesting person as your familiar."

"You flatter my lord." Louise said a bit quickly.

"No I mean it." Wardes said shifting his glaze to Whatley. "I've heard stories about him. Dueling counts, crushing golems, wielding the staff of Obliteration."

"Those last two are related." Wheatley said quickly.

"Of that I have no doubt." Wardes commented. "And that's only the things I believe actually happened."

"Do I want to know about the rumors?" Wheatley asked worried.

"They seem to be variants on the fact you, a young man, sleeps in a young women's room." Wardes said simply.

Wheatley response came in the form of him thumping his head against the table and Louise blush crossing into the inferred spectrum.

"Joy."

"Indeed." Wardes said. After a moment he shifted gears. "I've heard you're quite the swordsmen Wheatley. He shrugged, head still pressed into the grain of the table.

"Normally I'm not. I like dealing with my problems at much, much further then arms length."

"Well how about a duel on the morrow if you need the practice." Wheatley looked up at Wardes.

"I don't do duels if I can help it." He said simply. He then took a bite of his food.

"O come one." Wardes started. "I'm sure Louise would have no problem with it."

"No. that's my answer." Wheatley said eating the rest of his meal in silence. "Frankly I rather explore the city during my free time." Then cast a sidelong glance at Guiche. "Also Monmon made me promise to keep Guiche under control." Guiche went into a minor chocking fit.

"w,what!" he finally said.

SHIFT

la Rochelle market.

"I should have asked for some money." Wheatley said to no on in particular as he looked down the bore of a musket.

"What for? Your stuff better." Derflinger commented from his belt.

"Only in rate of fire and muzzle velocity. My pip boy says thing this could decapitated a man at almost 20 paces, admittedly its computing if it has rifling and a proper fitting round."

"Ya, for that matter can you use my on you shoulder! I don't like talking to your groin!"

"We have been over this." Wheatley said putting the gun back on the rack in the shop and left it. "Its almost impossible to draw a sword from over your shoulder."

Exiting the story he looked around. "Now were is Guiche? He said he would wait for me right here."

"Likely saw a pretty girl."

"Agreed." Wheatley commented with sigh. Scanning around he started to march down the street looking for the blond hair flop.

On a impulse he had learned to trust he pivoted down a side street into a paved square with a fountain in the middle of it, with Guiche and some brunette next to it."

Grunting his lack of surprise he stormed forward frustrated.

"Guiche! There you are!" the two of them turned to face the incoming lone wanderer, duster flowing slightly behind him.

"O, Wheatley." He said suddenly dishearten from his flirts.

"ya me, we have a ship to board in less then a half hour so lets get to it. Say good bye to your latest girl friend and you life when Monmon hears about this."

"Who?" the girl asked.

"His girl friend." Wheatley commented. Three seconds and one slap across the face the lady stomped away.

"Never learn do you?" Wheatley commented.

"If I must bear the slings and arrows to enjoy life's pleases, then so be it." He said posing with his rose wand out with a smile.

"That's actually quite good, read it some were?"

",,,yes." He said after a moment.

"Cute, hay Guiche we do have a moment right now. Just a question, what exactly is are relationship?"

"Are what?" Guiche said suddenly with a very worried look on his face.

"Relationship. Are first encounter involved us dueling each other, or rather you trying to pummel me in the back." Wheatley crossed his arms with a firm stare. Guiche did look somewhat abashed on his part. "Next part had me threatening your real girl friend with either jail time or a bullet to the head. Yet here we are."

Whipping some sweat of his forehead Guiche picked his words well. "I never did truly apologize for that did I?"

"I don't want it now." Wheatley said. "You think of me as a noble now, which I am not though this god beepen planet seems to want to prove me wrong. Were I a commoner, would you bother?" Guiche shook his honestly no.

"Well alright then. Until that changes don't bother apologizing." Wheatley commented. "the point is, are we friends or something? Not that I mind that mind you, just checking in." then he noticed something. Why is it suddenly quiet?"

The square was suddenly silent. The two looked around for a moment then the two looked around the fountain.

Standing, not more then 20 feet from where they had been talking, was a 50 foot golem, what's more Wheatley recognized it.

"Well good." Foquet commented from the Golem shoulder, "I was afraid I would have to set a firework off or something."

"God damn it!" Wheatley clicked a few buttons on his pip boy activating his power armor and an Assault rifle.

Guiche conjured up a few golems as they awaited the first move.

SHIFT

"Where are they?" Louise snapped at no one. She tapped her foot on the deck of the air ship. Wheatley and Guiche were no were to be seen, something was off. The ship did not leave till early in the evening but they were going to get to ship early.

Something was off, Wheatley would not be late, Guiche sure, but not Wheatley.

"We should look for them." Louise said somewhat worried. Wardes said from beside her.

"Their both big boys, they can take them selves." Wardes said.

"You, are right." Louise said at last. "I'll be in my cabin." She said after a moment and did just that. Missing the rising plume of dust.

SHIFT

The golem stood in the middle of the square, it mass cracking the paving under its feet.

"What are you up to Foquet?" Wheatley asked sharply.

"What else?" a voice behind them said, spinning on the ball of his foot the two of them met the gaze of Foquet. "Revenge!" a sudden wand twist sent a wave of rock though the ground sending 101 flying backward. Guiche half turned in shock as he went flying, only to find himself under attack by the Golem it massive pillar arms aiming for him.

Rapidly getting his feet under him he sped a few pace behind the golem and started Pounding round after round into the towering pile of rocks above him as he tried to find Foquet to put a bullet in her.

Guiche meanwhile was trying to have his golems pick Foquets apart, or rather pick, ax it apart with brass formed weapons, it was not going well.

Swinging its arm much faster then you truly thought it could the golem smashed a pair of Valkerys apart in a hail of brash shrapnel.

Abandoning the rifle, atomizing it with a hand flex, he drew Derflinger. "Ok, we have a ten thousand pound golem that need to die, what do I do?" he asked the old sword.

"Hit it till its dead?" it said after a moment.

"You're a real Sun Tzu." Wheatley commented as he tried to think of his next step, only to find he could not take one.

Quickly he glared down at his feet, they had sunk into the stone paving stones.

Glaring around he found Foquet standing a bit off, with a smug look on her face.

With out word he quickly, demonized, drew and aimed a revolver, only for another piller of stone to rise up and pin his arm at a 75 degree angle so his pistol was only pointing at the sky.

More important, and this was not intentional, he could not touch his pip boy to de atomize more gear with a hot key or look though it to get something else.

"What's the matter Gandalfr? Can't move?"

"No," with that he drew slice Derflinger, left handed into the rock pinning his arm up high cutting easily though it like paper. "Just resting."

"Good, so was I!" with that the stone under him rumbled like an earth quack throwing both his aim and foot off.

Stumbling he fired a blind salvo of rounds in Foquet's general direction. None of them seemed to hit.

A blast of stone the size of a cannon ball smashed into his armored chest plate blowing him back ward across the square.

Guiche though was even worse off.

His golems destroyed he was in danger of being crushed to death.

Getting his footing back under him Wheatley searched for the thief, only to be interrupted from his search by a blast of flame that scorched the things leg.

Pivoting upward he gave a groan of relief, surprise and slight irritation. "Of course its them."

Scanning around he looked for Foquet as Tabitha landed atop Sylphid nearby. Unfortunate for him, and very fortunately for the thief she was no were in sight.

A few seconds latter the Golem crumbled as the magic holding it together fell apart.

Still turning looking for the thief Wheatley ran over to the other three mages.

"We need to get moveing."

"Hay sw,," Wheatley cut off the over eager Kirche. "Screw that we need to get moving! Foquet was only slowing us down."

"Well if so she did a poor job of it." Guiche said some what flippantly. "We still have 20 minutes if we hurry." Wheatley was looking over his shoulder.

"Might what to rethink that bud." He said after a moment. The three mage turned to stare down the barrels of 20 or so muskets wielded by a group of watchmen. Slowly Wheatley turned around.

They were surrounded by similar men, a couple of people that could only be mages, and some how, a couple light cannons.

"Scheiße." Kirche cursed in Germanium.

"Were on a mission for the princess though, remember?" Guiche said franticly.

"Only Louise has the paper work on her to prove it." Wheatley said with a growl.

"That bitch is clever." Wheatley finished with a almost sigh.


	18. Church

_**New chapter**_

_**Next chapter, will be fun.** _

* * *

><p>Foquets plan had worked. Wheatley mused in a moment in-between the La Rochelle guards questions.<p>

While the group had been arrested, detained and questioned, there air ship had set sail, he had seen it go over head, and he only had to say nothing that massive should be able to fly.

The fact La Rochelle was in Gallia was not helping at all.

"Ok," the 'good cop' of the pair said, "can you explain once more what happened."

"We've been over this before." Before Wheatley could say another word the 'bad cop' interrupted slamming his hands onto the desk between him and the good cop "Tough! Were go over this as many times as we need."

"Take a chill pill." Wheatley said rolling his eyes. "Before you pop a vain or something." Seriously, he had this one vain just, pulsing over his left eye like a drum. Before he could interrupt Wheatley lunched into the story again.

"Once more: we were on a mission from Princess Henrietta to Albion, which I won't tell as I am unsure if I should so sorry." The good cop nodded empathically, the bad cop just glowered.

"That part is moot to the fact the thief Fouqet attacked us and we fought back, in fact I believe most of the damage was done by her."

"And the bullet holes?" the bad cop sneered. Wheatley coughed into his hand. "That would be me."

"You? There are almost 30 bullet holes in that square. You expect me to believe you did that!" bad cop shouted.

"Yes." 101 said glaring back into the eyes of the bad cop till he backed down.

"From there we defended are selves till she ran leaving us to deal with you." Wheatley continued. "So in fact you doing what she wants by keeping us here."

"And the blue and red head?" the good cop asked.

"Not sure what Tabitha and Kirche, the blue and red head respectively, are doing here. Likely Kirche idea. There just as innocent in this as I am."

"Innocent?" bad cop snapped. "Give me one reason why we should not arrest you till we have a word with King Joseph, You Tristain national." he drew his face close to Wheatleys.

In response the Lone Wanderer quickly pressed a hot key on his pipboy, deatomized a revolver and pressed it to his forehead.

"As of right now a young teenager is now in possibly mortal danger with a person I strongly suspect to be working with Foquet to stop us, we don't have time to wait much more then we have. So unless you let me out, I will proceeded to fight my way out and there is nothing in my way that can stop me. Not you, not magic, not even castle walls. As it is I have been, not humoring you, but complying with the law by choice but the second those laws prevent me from protecting people, I will break them and any one who stops me."

"Where did that come form!" good cop said once he was over his shock.

"Trade secret." Wheatley said pulling the gun away and slide it into his belt.

"Look I would love to obey the law but I am on a seriously time crunch, if it makes you happy I promise I won't willing return to La Rochelle but we need to leave as soon as possible."

"Next air ship for Albion leaves tomorrow." Good cop said. "You're staying here until then."

"Fair enough." Wheatley said instantly.

"Right, send him back." the good cop said. A door opened and a pair of guards walked in. "and this time make SURE he's unarmed." Bad cop snapped.

"Good luck with that." Wheatley said rolling his eyes as he left the room.

SHIFT

It was four hours latter.

The word prison cell convoyed the wrong words to describe the room.

Though clearly under arrest the room was no better, some might say in some ways it was better then the hotel room they would have stayed out.

Everyone was talking over a dinner meal about the day's events.

Wheatley inhaled his part of an egg and started the discussion.

"Ok Kirche, I know you convinced Tabitha to come here so lets start with that. Why are you two here?"

The red head shifted nervously. "I was going after that guy,," Wheatley broke out into a laugh for a minute. "Kirche, I don't know where to start with you." He said seriously. "But you're here and you may as well be useful we are on a time limit and we need the help."

"Why is that?" Guiche asked. "Louise has Wardes with her, he should be able to protect him."

"And if Wardes is working with Foquet?" Wheatley retorted.

"Umm." He fell silent.

"ya, umm." Wheatley "That's the worse case scenario, best case they're walking into a ambush. Earliest ship leaves tomorrow mourning and were leaving on it. Period." He took another bite of eggs.

"We don't have any time to loose, until tomorrow." He sighed. For the first time he understood the brother hood of steel saying, 'hurry Up and wait.'

He sighed. "Any one have a box of playing cards

SHIFT.

A high piched whine woke Kirche up in the middle of the night. For a second she lay then listening to the sound till she drew her robe around her and investigated the sound.

In the main room, on the table they had eaten on. Wheatley had the gut of a mini-gun spead out each part carefully being maintained and repaired.

Kirche smiled, perfect, she had him alone.

She took one step forward, only for him to comment with out looking up form the weapon, "Kirche if you make one lewd comment I swear I'll lock you in your bed room."

"Bad time?" she commented.

"Very." He said back spinning up the barrels on the minigun again. "I have a half dozen weapons to check before I loose the space on a ship to do it. This thing at the top of that list." He finally put it back together atomizeing it into his pipboy.

"I still can't get over that." Kirche commented. "From some one who claims to have no magic, you sure have a hell of a gauntlet." Wheatley paused for a moment and flexed his fingers looking at his pip boy.

"It's not magic, it can't be magic. Likely half my problem." He muttered to him self in thought. "We don't have any magic back home. Having seeing the 'staff of oblitration.' He threw up finger quotes around it. "First hand you know we don't need it." She nodded somewhat. Nothing could match that thing.

Wheatley stood up and stretched. "And I've just finished all I needed the space of this room for."

"So do you have a plan?" Kirche asked.

"Yes, step one get some sleep, step two, and kill every one who stops me." He said very plainly

SHIFT

"I'm sorry sir I have to stop you." Wheatley sighed at the luggage handler who was hauling a row of suitcases up a ramp onto the out going air ship.

"No take your time." Said in a huff. He glared at Kirche behind him. "Not a word."

"Would not dream of it" her words said, but her body language said she was dreaming of it."

He sighed. "Lets get on the damn boat."

SHFIT

Albion.

It was much like Tristain to Wheatley. In fact there was no sign that the island nation was a floating island.

Still, they had a goal and no time to look at the scenery.

"Does anyone have any idea where were suppose to go?" Wheatley asked the other students as he marched off the boat, (the wooden plank bowing noticeable under him.

"I just got here." Kirche commented as she got off behind him, Tabitha was silent and Guiche just shrugged.

A cry form a dock worker drew there attention. To there left some workers were having problems with a box. Wheatley rubbed his forehead.

"Guiche, please don't tell me that's what I think it is?"

"I would not dare leave Verdandi behind." Guiche said smugly.

"I hate you." Wheatley sighed into his hand, then he seemed to get hit by a lighting bolt of an idea.

"Verdandi!"

"Yes we know he's here." Kirche commented, Tabitha behind her reading a book, trying not to be dragged in any more then she had been.

"Yes but, how good at tracking is he?"

Guiche caught on. "You want him to track the ring?"

"Any better idea Guiche?" Wheatley commented as he moved to the box that was currently bouncing around on the dock.

Drawing Derflinger he smashed the box open with the pummel, reveling a very confused mole and a box full of half eaten cabbages.

"O right then, let see if your worth you weight in vetgables."

SHIFT

Five hours latter the mole had led them to a church building.

The other mages were just about passed out trying to keep up with the both the mole and the lone wanderer, who could.

"So, there in there?" the Verdandi bounded excitedly.

"Right. Guiche keep the mole under control," the panting blond lifted a hand in agreement. "I'm going in. bold as all heck he stormed forward deatomizing his power armor as he went, hoping he would not need it.

After a half minute he was at the church's door.

Before he opened the door though, he checked at a window.

Everything was tinted, as it was a stain glass window, but what he saw made up his mind right away.

More guard then he care to mention, all in plate mail, all watching something at the back of the church.

He adjusted his view as a cross bar was in the way of his view. His eyes went wide in shock.

"Louise?" He hissed. She was getting married?

Well he was going to crash this sucker!

He stomped up to the thick wooden door and wandered how to open it, he pushed on it, only to find a cross bar across the back of it.

Drawing Derflinger he slid him between the doors, trying slicing though the cross bar, no one noticing yet.

To no effect, he could not saw though it, nor did he have the time.

Frustrated he jammed Derflinger into a stone. The sword spoke at that. "I appreciated it if you were more careful partner.

"On my too do list." Wheatley growled as he deatomized the Xuanlong assault rifle, locked a clip of ammo into it, cocked it, and took aim at the cross bar, hoping the wood would not be too thick.

SHIFT

"Louise." Prince Wales asked for the second time, "do you take this man., Viscount Jean-Jacques Francis de Warde as you lawful wedded husband?"

Louise struggled not to say anything, forced by magic older then her nation she was compelled though to speak. "I,," before she finished a barrage of flat cracks like the breaking of tree limbs cut her off.

From the back of the church behind them the wooden cross bar was blown apart in a hail of splinters. Kicking the door in stomped Wheatley.

"Hello Wardes." He said, voice like the wind off of a mountain, cold, strong and pitiless.

The Viscount in question was almost stunned into silence before speaking. "Wheatley." He said leveling back.

Whatley first sentence though had broken what ever magic hold was on Louise and she was backing away from Wardes, as stealthily as she could.

"Care to explain this whole thing to me?" Wheatley asked as he took a few steps in, only to find a sword leveled at his head, he did not notice. "I must say, its not looking good for you."

After a moment Prince Wales broke the silence "Arrest that intruder!" the guard pointing the sword at Wheatley was the first to die.

Jamming the Rifle into his stomach he fired a short burst into his chest, THOUGH the armor.

Pivoting VATS time engaged, and he took aim, five targets, 30 bullets.

Six rounds per target.

Burst one sawed into the upper shoulder of a nearby night as he raised his sword in slow motion of the speed up world that was his perception of it. He fell not to stand.

Burst two impact the face plate of a night turning his head into something one was glad one could not see thanks to the helmet.

Bust Three cut though the knee cap of a knight knocking him down and out of the fight.

Four splattered into the upper chest of a knight, the armor, which he had to be said was made to stop a slower heavier object, like a magically thrown rock, helped some what with the hyper velocity bullet. The wounds were merely slowly fatal rather then instantly.

Five took his bullets to his stomach, and six crumpled from a spinal wound.

VATS ended.

Louise was mid shout "Wale n,,!" when suddenly the room erupted in the roar of gun fire deafening her, and all the guards died in seconds.

Silence stretched after that as Whatley calmly reloaded his rifle, power armor not even scratched.

"So, you were saying?" he commented as he cocked his rifle the spring loaded Rattch sound echoing like a death sentence over the cries of pain of the still living. "Now who's next?" he knelt into a crouch and took aim at Prince Wales who was drawing his sword an enraged look on his face.

"Whatley no!" Louise shouted from her position behind a column. "He being controlled!"

He lowered the rifle and got one word off "What." Before a piller of air impacted him throwing him to the back wall.

"How dare you!" Wales said as he walked forward, blade ready, "You come into a sacred wedding, kill my guards, for no reason!" another blast of wind drove the point home.

"Louise how do I break that spell then?" he stood up clenching his arm in pain and frustration.

"You can't." Wards said before grabbing Louise arm to take her away "and you,," before he could finish a snap pistol shot drilled into his chest. The 9mm round didn't do a lot of damage though the armor he had on, but it badly dented the cuirass distracting him with the pain.

Louise took the chance to run to Wheatley side, who was currently trying to find a way out of this fight.

"Wales! Calm down I,"

"Calm down!" the word was accented with a lighting bolt sending Wheatley ducking behind a stone pillar to cover himself. "You killed my guards! That one!" he pointed to the man who had taken burst two and was leaking brain and blood all over the floor. "Was named Charles Dermont, he had a family! Two children you orphaned!" another torrent of lighting was sent flying toward him blowing a chunk off the stone wall behind Wheatly.

Louise ducked behind the wall with him.

"So, you have a plan?" Whatley asked.

"Run." She said simply "I have the letter her," she pattered her pocket only to find it was gone. Panicked she felt around. "Wardes has it!"

"On it." Wheatley said deatoming his stealth suit, his armor reflowing into his pipboy.

Looking into the blank face of Wheatleys helmet Louise saw only her only reflection. "Head out, meet up with Kirche and Guiche, move!" he shimmered and disappeared. Louise took a breath and charged to the door.

"O no!" Warde started to say, aiming a spell at her, only to gasp when an impact to his face drove him down to the ground

"Wheatley turned visible for a second, blood on his knuckles. "I'll take that." He snatched the tip of the letter out of Wardes pocket crumpling it in his fist.

"Good bye." He turned invisible again. Wardes blinked then Wales pre fired blast of air blew him though a window when it missed Wheatley.

Moments latter he was gone.


	19. Battle

**_Response to:X I'll take that as a compliment thanks!  
><em>**

**_I have been waiting for this chapter for a loooonng time.  
><em>**

* * *

><p>The small group of students and one wastelander were going as fast as they could to the port they had arrived in, "Tabitha where's, your dragon. "Guiche puffed."<p>

"Tristain, could not make the long flight." Some how Tabitha was still reading her book.

Then Guiche collapsed.

"I can't walk another step." He groaned.

Wheatley spun to tell him off, only to find the rest of the group in similar condition.

"Really? Does Mage School not have a gym class or something?"

"We've been running all day!" Kirche complained. She looked up. "and the suns going down, can't we rest?"

"With are luck no." Wheatley commented. "20 minute break." Every one collapsed.

Wheatley sighed and looked around.

The road was lined with trees on both sides and right now every one was camping out under one of the tress.

Sighing again he walked over and joined them slumping down next to a tree.

"Wheatley, what's wrong?" Louise asked after seeing his depressed look.

"I killed six innocent men today. I don't like doing that." He put very mildly.

"I've always had a better way , and only killed those how needed it, not now."

He sighed and looked up at the sky.

"You did not have a choice." Louise said.

"Not true." He deatomized the Mesmaetron. "This thing can knock people out, or enslave them."

"And you have that why?" Louise asked.

"Funny story." Wheatley said with a smile. "I was demolishing Pardise falls when I found this thing.

"Demolishing?" Louise asked. "What was it a town?"

"You could say that, just me, a couple squads of brother hood knights, and my companions. We told them we would be coming so they would either all gather in one place, or scatter for ease picking."

"Which they do?"

"The fun one." Wheatley said. "They gathered and we smacked them down." He smiled like he was recalling a good memory. "Burned the buildings down, scattered the ashes and killed everybody in sight." At Louise horrified look he added quickly "Mind you they were all Slavers, and I do not speak hyperbolically. Must have freed a good 30 slaves from them."

"Are you sure you're a hero?" she asked ironically.

"Some times I wonder." He said sadly. He looked at the sky, frowned then stood up. "Company." He pointed at a rising dust cloud, "they're coming this way."

Every one stood up and looked at it.

"So what do we do?" Louise asked.

"Every but me has got to get to town. I'll hold them off." This is to say, kill them. Wheatley left out that part out.

"That's a big cloud, can you really stop them?" Kirche asked.

"Can you cast fire magic?" He said flippantly "Now get going, I'll hold them off and meet you in the port."

"More running." Guiche griped.

"You're an earth mage, you standing on earth, move the earth under you." Wheatley said smartly.

Guiche blinked then nodded, a wand wave latter and a small block of stone the size of a small car had risen from the ground and the mages clambered atop it.

"You sure you're be ok?" Louise asked. Wheatley chuckled.

"Take more than feudal bastards to take me out, now get going." Louise nodded and the stone tablet started to roll forward with the sound of a rock slide, tearing up the road behind it.

Wheatley shook his head and turned to face down the road from the opposite direction.

He datomized a bolt-action rifle, a sniper rifle, the Xuanlong assault rifle that he slide that over his shoulder then his minigun, he placed them one by one on the ground.

He then sat down in the middle of the road to wait for them.

He had more than one reason to send Louise running.

He had killed six men in almost as many seconds.

He did not want to have the other mages, the children see him destroy a company of man almost as fast.

SHIFT

"Siesta!" the maid stopped dusting and turned to face the voice of chef Marteau. "What is it sir?"

"You have a visitor; he checked in at the kitchen, do you know a Richard?"

"Do I!" she said excited and raced off to meet one of her best friends.

"Seista! What about the dusting!" he called after her.

"I'll do it latter!" she shouted over her shoulder. Marteau shook his head.

A few minutes later she encountered Richard.

He smiled as she approached. "Hay Siesta." He ran a hand though his black hair smiling brightly. "I had some free time and decided to drop by. Have a moment." He lifted a picnic basket.

"Of course I do." She smiled the two of them started to walk to the tables the nobles used when eating out side, if they were here and if they had not already eaten.

"So anything going on back home?" Seista asked.

"Well, let see." He thought about it. "The Salamanders won the league play offs and are going on to the championships, the crops are coming in well, and, not much else. It's a small town." He shrugged.

The two reached the table and sat down. He set out a pair of sandwiches, unwrapped one and took a bite. "So that what's going on back home, what about here? Anything exciting?"

"Well, their one thing I didn't write home about." She rubbed the back of her head nervously.

"Well this should be good fire away." Richard said taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"I was, kidnapped by a noble." Richard started to chock on his sandwich for a few moments, prompting Seista to start pounding on his back to make sure he did not die. A few minutes into it he finaly swallowed his food, spun and grabbed Seista by the shoulder.

"What happened are you ok? If that bastard laid a finger on you I'll kill him!" Seista quickly reassure him.

"He did not lay a finger on me." She said quickly and he quickly gripped his heart. "Thank god. So what happened?" the two sat back down.

"Well, first off, did you know a human can become a mage's familiar?"

"No, as if they don't have enough power over us." Richard sighed.

"More like the other way around." He lifted an eye brow at her statement. "Louise, the mage in question, has almost no control over Wheatley. He is I should mention a commoner."

"Really now that is interesting, so how does this factor in with you being kidnapped?"

"He was the rescuer. He literally challenged Mott to a duel and won." Richard whistled.

"Remind me to shake his hand. He practically save my little sister." He affectionately ruffled her hair and she batted his hand away giggling. "What is with you and hair?"

"It's a gift." He shrugged. "What's his name?"

"Wheatley." She said somewhat dreamily.

He chuckled. "Dear god here we go again."

"What that's supposed to mean?" Seista countered.

"Nothing, but you spend so much time reading romance novels you get dreamy eyed at the drop of a hat and I think, can't read minds here, you have wild fantasies on the subject."

"I do not!" Seista said countering he chuckled.

"You mouth says you don't, you wild blush says yes you do."

"You jerk." Seista said after a moment of cheek glowing.

After a moment Richard smiled and reached into the picnic basket and drew out a couple of bottles.

"Well am I less of a jerk now?" Seista's eyes lit up.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find these outside of Tarbs!"

"Impossible, they are kind of unique." He shrugged.

"How many did you bring?" Seista asked as she was handed a bottle.

"A dozen for you. Figured you need some reminder of home in this noble infested complex."

He opened the bottle and handed it to her. Smiling she took a straight gulp from the glass bottle. Instantly memories flowed back of hot summer days, cold drinks sitting on the porch of her family's home with friends and family.

Smiling she took another bite of her sandwich. As Richard kept talking. "So back to this Wheatley guy, can I meet him?"

"No he's gone, said he had a job to do and would not say anything more on the subject."

"To bad, I can't stay long. Would have loved to thank him."

"For what?" Seista asked.

"Saving you." he said simply. He held his bottle out and Seista clinked it against her own.

SHIFT

Night had fallen and Wheatley was still waiting for the soldiers.

He did not have to wait much longer.

A flicker of movement on the road, they were here. He stood up, hefted the sniper rifle and looked though the scope.

They were a lot of them.

And unlike before these were not knights, but common soldiers, albeit there were a lot of them.

So did that mean they were free, or enslaved?

He really did not have a choice though. Six he could mezz, 60? No. In order to live he had to shoot to kill.

Did not mean he had to like it.

De-atomizing his power armor he quickly took another look though his scope and fired.

At a range of almost 200 feet the first round impacted the leading mans chest and he crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.

Four more times and four more deaths the rifles clip was empty.

For a few moments the force stopped, and few people discharged their muskets into the trees to either side of the road.

"God damn, they don't have any idea what's killing them." Wheatley said as he reloaded.

"At this range?" Derflinger chimed in from his hip, "Of course not."

A few seconds latter Wheatley fired again, this time they noticed the muzzle flash.

"game time." Wheatley commented once he emptied the clip into the oncoming force.

Rather then reloaded he drew the bolt-action rifle off the ground, flipping his foot under it and kicking it into his hand. He got ten rounds and one reloaded before they got to close.

By now 20 of there number had been left behind, quickly he picked up the mini gun the barrels spinning to life quickly, motor humming, barrels twirling he open fired.

5mm rounds were shit against armor of any kind. But unarmored musketeers? It was a slaughter.

Like a glacier cleaving ice they fell in the dozens as the company collapsed before him. When the gun barrels finally stopped turning, nothing was left alive.

"Well that was easy." He commented. He never head enemy's literally charge down his weapon.

Then musket fire roared to life from the trees to either side of the road.

The heavy T-51B armor was unfazed. Had it been alive it would have been insulted: "You dare shoot at me with a musket? I'll have to kill you on principle now!"

No time to reload, the minigun was atomized and the Xuanlong assault rifle drawn. The rifle barked in the dead of the night spraying the wood light as a second volley of gunfire splattered off his armor lead bullet smearing the surface.

As soon as the rifle clicked and he started to reload the real attack began.

Emerging from the woods the troops, 40 riflemen, armed with bayoneted rifles charged him. Again: no time to reload.

He drew Derflinger and the melee began.

A long swing parried a dozen muskets bayonets on his left, only to have a pair on the right try to jam into his back.

Spinning on his left foot he parried the blades as the troops circled him. Almost like a pig sticking contest they jabbed in, and for every blade he parried another four slide off his armor.

"This is not working." Wheatley muttered when he saw some troops trying to reload there rifles as they stood out of the circle. A pip boy hot key latter a ten mm pistol was drawn in his off hand, as he parried with his Derflinger in the right hand he fired with his left.

Ten targets went down, a round for each. He now had a opening.

While the riflemen scrambled to get into position to keep him in one place he moved forward.

Speed boosted by the rune on his hand Derflinger snaked around blades slicing throats, stomachs, chests anything in its way.

A musket lifted to parry was sliced clean though digging into the skull under.

Sliding back the displined line had broken down, some of them running, other charging in.

A blade to his stomach was blocked, the blade went into 360 rotation from that movement and on the back swing the rifle men's head wend flying.

A pause in the chaos, and for a second he saw a woman standing on the road calmly smoking a cigarette watching the fight. Her green eyes taking everything in.

Before he had time to figure her out some more a pair of troops rushed him.

He pinned one rifle under his arm sliced his throat spun like lighting around and parried the second mans blade, digging Derflinger deep into the mans stomach.

He pulled back. No one was left save the black haired women.

He spun to face her blade ready.

"You did better then I thought." She said with a shrug tossing the cigarette over his shoulder.

"That's, what? 80 men you just killed." Her hands fluttered about, accenting every point some how making it larger.

"Who are you?" Wheatly asked.

"Forget me." She said dismissively, right hand making a move as if throwing something over her shoulder even though it was empty. "Let talk about you. Right now Warde has beaten you 'master'" he threw up finger quotes "back to the town and is in the process of taking that letter back."

SHIFT

"Where is Wheatley?" Louise asked nervously as she paced back and forth in the hotel room they had rented that was there meeting place with him.

"he should be back already."

"I would not be worried." Guiche said. "He's likely being careful getting back to us." For the 14th time Louise walked to the window and looked out, turning white when she saw who was out there.

"Wardes!"

SHIFT

"He's likely met up with Foquet by now, and between the two triangle mages the letter will be taken with ease."

SHIFT

"Wardes here!" Kirche charged over to the window and looked out with Louise. A woman was next him. "And Foquet." Louise hissed.

"O that old fruit cake." Kirche commented disparaging.

"So what do we do?" Guiche asked nervously.

SHIFT

"Louise!" Wheatley said, spinning to run down the road. Only for the flat crack of a pistol to ping of his armor turning him around.

"I wouldn't leave just yet." She said looking the flit lock in her hand the dropping it. "How uncivilized." She muttered softer. "You still have me to deal with."

"And you are?" Wheatley asked.

"Depends who you ask." She shrugged. "My names Janet, no last name, forget it. Around here people call me," at this she lifted her bangs over her forehead showing runes much like the ones on Wheatley's hand. "The Myozunitonirun, the mind of god all that." She shrugged again.

"But you and I come form the same world." She put her hand on her hips. "You can call me what they did back home. The Courier."


	20. beat up

**I have waited for this chapter for so long.**

**Enter JANET!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>She leapt to action.<p>

The hand on her right hip draw the pulse gun, pointed at Wheatley and fired.

The blue pulse of energy washed over the power armor and everything went to hell.

Warning flashing across his visor, alarms screamed in his ear and the servos froze up. Slowly, fighting the weight of the armor and the now protesting servos, the Lone Wanderer sunk to his knees, arms at his side. Derflinger had fallen out of his hand and was jammed point first into the ground. "O this is not good." He muttered, doing his best to look like a sword not worth looting.

Janet meanwhile just watched him sink to the ground. She then looked at her pulse gun. "Technology. You Brotherhood of Steel jerks think you control it." She gave a dramatic pause when she spun the pulse gun on her trigger finger around. "When you don't under stand the first thing about it." She atomized it, the weapon flowing into her own Pip-boy.

A soft muttering from the fallen Wanderer drew her attention. "Can't say a thing under the helmet right?" she walked, or rather swaggered, her ever move reeked of her own understanding and skill, and she broadcasted it like a radio.

Reaching over she undid the clasps and removed the helmet over Wheatley face. He glared at her, amber eyes magnified by his glasses.

"Well you're a cute one Sugar." She said sweetly.

"What do you want?" Wheatley barked. Now that she was up close he got a real good look at her.

She was, odd. Her clothing was standard military issue, which was to say was bright red in the age of line infantry tactics.

"So fast to get to the point." She stood up dropping the helmet nearby. She made a point of looming over him. "I have a deal to offer you Mr. James."

"And that is?" He snapped back.

"Your so tense." She shrugged. Again he was struck by how much her hands and body moved when she was talking making ever word more memorable. "First I think a quick recap of the world is in order." She lifted a finger up. "Nobles rule this world and oppress commoners. So it's been for well over a thousand years before you me were born. So it will be after were dead, unless we intervene.

"And you think you have the solution?" Wheatley said dryly. "Isn't the height of arrogance to believe you know best for every one."

She took a half step back, lifted her left hand to her chin in exaggerated gesture of thought then held her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. "Lil bit. But can you honestly say that anything I do can be any worse then the current system?"

"And you gain?" Wheatley asked.

"Well if world peace does not interest you there be a lot of power and money in it as well." She shrugged, but her smile said she was looking forward to that part.

"You're a two bit,," before he could finish a moan from behind her cut him off. "Hold that thought." Janet said turning to face the dieing man. In the fight he had lost his arm and was bleeding out on the ground.

Wheatley took the opportunity to move.

Normally when power armor locked up the man inside could not move. Except they could lift their arms. Even if the armor made it hard due to its weight.

Where the helmet met the breastplate there was a gap. Reaching up Wheatley took his brief chance to sneak his hand in the gap and press an emergency over ride switch, built just for this occasion.

Pressing it all the servos in the armor turned off. Rather then trapping him, he was now free to move, somewhat, the armor was still blood heavy with out them. But he could move.

He quickly put his arms to his side pretending his armor was still locked down.

"Well you kill some one you don't mess around." Janet said turning back to face him a frown on her face. She shrugged again. "Any way you were saying Sugar?"

"I was saying you're a two bit dictator."

"I'm a two bit? Sugar I'm more of a 20 bit." She said smugly. She walked over closer to Wheatley.

"And how do you plan to do all this any way?" Wheatley asked. She smiled and walked a bit closer.

"I'm from the old world. I know how stuff works back there, I have magic, I have followers, I have almost everything I need, and you will be another piece in my end game."

"For what?" Wheatley asked.

"Utopia," she leaned closer, her face a half-foot away from Wheatley's own. "A world with no gods or kings, no theocracies, no noble abuse, no religious persecution, I don't promise perfection." She said abrupt breaking with her pervious proclamation of Utopia. "I promise a betterment of the world."

"And Wards? Forcefully marrying Louise? The ends do not justify the means." Wheatley proclaimed.

"They do." Janet shrugged.

"They. Do. Not!" He swung his fist in a surprise upper cut that caught her on the chin sending her sprawling back words arms wind milling for balance. Wheatley was up in moments and followed his assault before she could get her balance.

A sharp left jab, to her shoulder and an upper cut that impacted her stomach, only to find in both cases she had bullet proof combat armor under it.

She backed up getting her balance back, as the far less nimble Wheatley tried to keep up, badly the un-powered armor was slowing him down.

After a few dainty steps back she had recovered and counter attacked.

Quickly she reached down and in one smooth move a fist full of dirt arced up to his eyes forcing him to take a blind step back, a foot snaked around behind his left leg and swept back throwing him on his back.

"Clever." Janet said spitting a mouthful of blood out. She made a point to hit Wheatley's chest with it. "How did you do that? In my experience once you EMP a knight there out till some one turns the armor off for them."

Wheatley quickly atomized his power armor his duster taking its place; he combat rolled to Derfligner and drew the sword taking a fighting stance.

"O dear, you have a sword." She pushed a button on her own pip boy and a glaive was De-atomized into her hands.

The blade was dark purple and the handle was black like obsidian. "I have a Protonic inversal axe. Have at thee!" she shouted and charged forward axe held low.

Derflinger rose to meet the weapon, and in a shower of energy sparks the two blade clashed as she performed a side ways chop aimed for his ribs.

Pushing it off he twirled the blade around over his head building speed, only for the axe to jab forward faster then even him forcing him to block.

Another swing, this time at his head and he was forced to block the over head chop.

She stopped and let him back up. "VATS?" Wheatley asked as got feet under him and planned his next move.

"How you guess?" She smiled, jamming the bottom of the axe into the dirt of the road.

"Lucky." Wheatley growled. Derflinger made things worse. "Partner, I have no idea what that blade is but its not doing me any good." Wheatley spared a moment to observe the ancient sword. Deep grooves had been carved into Derflinger blade and even now the last cut faintly glowed with the heat of the blade.

Before he had time to think about this a shout drew his attention.

"Think fast!" he looked up to see a purple throwing axe cocked back in Janet's hand, she lunched it forward sending it spinning end over end.

Instinctively he raised Derflinger to block the axe. When the two blades impacted there was an explosion, not of sparks, but of plasma. The force blew the lone Wanderer back sending him almost flying into a tree.

Groaning he stumbled to his feet, looked at Derflinger, only to find he still held only the hilt. Panicked he looked around finding half the blade embedded in a tree glowing red in the middle. The other half was nowhere to be seen. It had been vaporized.

"Derflinger?" he asked the hilt nervously. Silence.

Glaring, tears in his eyes he stared at the smug women who had killed Derflinger.

"O relax Sugar, if that sword is who I think it will take more then that to kill it." She said flippantly.

Enraged he swung behind the tree, deatomized the Xuanlong assault rifle took aim on the other side of the tree, and paused I shock for a moment.

She had her own power armor. One he had never seen before.

Thicker bulker, a light gray color. But the helmet! It had to be Enclave make!

That though did not matter. VATS engaged, the world slowed down and 36 bullets impacted perfectly with her helmet.

To no effect!

In the after math of the shooting she lifted her arm to defend her head, only to realize she had moved to slow to block anything.

"Know I know how NCR feels." She said to no one. She De-atomized something and threw it at him. It landed near his foot.

He cast a glance at it. A tin can? Why would she throw that? It hit him a second latter. Scrambling he moved as far from it as he could, only to have the Nuka-Grenade detonated.

The massive shook have blew him forward and he bashed him self on a rock. Quickly he took cover behind it. "Is that all you have Suger? If you want to save Louise you better do better." Janet said from the middle of the road. "At this rate though you better off joining me."

Wheatley though had reached his limit. From behind the rock he deatomized his tesla cannon. Roaring he emerged from behind it, lifted the cannon to his shoulder, took aim.

Janet did as well.

She drew her.45-70 Gov't pistol, the Ranger Sequoia, took aim, and fired first.

Her round hit the glass chamber of the Telsa cannon, it exploded showering Wheatley in broken glass and electrical energy.

Vision spinning he slumped against the rock, the whole right side of his face covered in blood and broken glass.

After a moment his vision righted it self. Shaking it off he glared around. Janet had not moved she had even pocked her revolver putting it back into the holster.

"This just isn't one of your days is it Suger?" She said some how getting the smugness though the helmet.

Staggering he tried to stand, only for the lingering electrical effects to throw his balance off.

He was in no condition to fight, he need to run.

With that simple goal in mind he shook his head, ducked behind a tree to get his gears in order, some how.

"You know, I'm not trying to kill you, you know." Janet shouted at him. "You may not believe it but the offer is still open. As long as we have the same goal, why your skills will be quite useful."

Wheatley did not answer. Using the trees for cover he sped off toward the port.

"I am though trying to stop you." Janet commented almost off hand as she de-atomized a Laser RCW. Took aim and VATS fired it when she had a clear shot between trees.

The laser struck his right leg, crawling up his body, his arm ending at his shoulder. He promptly fell over.

Gasping in pain he grasped his side as the pockmarks of deep burns along his side sent spears of pain though him.

He then tried to move his fingers, only he couldn't. His left hand had a hole burned though its palm. It was still smoke, like meat.

Holding back his retching an armored boot on the edge of his peripheral vision made him turn to face Janet.

"I said it before, and I will I say it again. This is not one of your better days. I suppose this is the point were I offer my last chance. Well?" the Laser RCW lowered to point at his head.

Quickly Wheately jammed his pipboy hot key 4 against his chin. His stealth suit took the place of his blood stained and torn duster.

"Cute. That's supposes to help?" Janet said slightly mockingly. On the west coast stealth suits did not normally have stealth fields.

On the east coast.

They did.

With a shimmer Wheatley disappeared. Immediately Janet carpeted the area he had just been with rapid-fire laser bolts. When that hit nothing she just fired blindly down the road.

Nothing.

Swapping Election charge packs she waited for Wheatley to remerge. He didn't.

"A tactical retreat. Lovely." She pushed a button on her pipboy and the Albion army uniform took the place of her power armor. "I can't wait to explain this to Cromwell." But her smile said she was really looking forward to it.

SHIFT

"You were suppose to kill Wheatley, instead you let him live." Wardes snapped at Foquet the green-ett. She scoffed.

"I was told to slow him down. You were the only who was suppose to kidnap Louise before he got there. What happened any way?"

"Shut up!" Wardes snapped. He then glared at the hotel, spotting a flash of pink and red at one of the windows. "We have a letter to get back. Cover the out side, I'll go in." with that he entered the building.

Out side Foquet rolled her eyes and kept an eye on the front of the build as best she could by her self.

A suddenly blast of flame roared from the window forcing her to suddenly raise a rock wall to defend her self. As flames roared against it Tabitha quickly levitated the students down the side of the building under the cover of the fire.

Kirche landed soon after them and the four of them quickly set off down the narrow streets.

Calling into the building for Wardes Foquet sped after them summoning a smaller lighter Golem to go after them.

Guiche paused, turned and threw up his own golems to slow her down and kept running.

His were made of brass. Her Golem was formed from harded steel.

"How much longer do we have to keep running!" Guiche shouted as the narrow street turned into an open plaza.

And thank god! There was a pair of Albion Bobby policemen! In the center of the square near a fountain. At the sound of the noise the two men turned face the students.

"What is going on?" the one on the right asked. The students semi crowded around them.

"This old thief is chasing us!" Kirche said between pants.

"I'm not old. I'm only 23!" Foquet shouted as she entered the plaza her small steel golems to either side of her.

To their credit the Bobbys were fast each drawing their rifles as the mage readied their spells.

"Stand down miss or,," one of them said. Foquet cut off what he was going to say.

"I am Lady Clarissa." Foquet announced "And these mages are enemies of the Reconquista!"

"That's," before Kirche could say 'preposterous' the bobby behind her smashed her skull with his rifle butt knocking her unconscious. The other tried to bayonet Guiche only for him to quickly summon a sword and use it to parry the blade, bashing the policemen's chin with the sword pummel.

The mages took up positions facing Foquet. Then Wardes arrived. "What took you so long?" Foquet asked. Wardes glared at every one in his way.

"They turned the carpet on the stairs to glue." And indeed, he was missing his shoes.

"Surrender the letter children and were let you live."

"You want the letter?" Louise said, keep her fear out of her voice. She crumpled it and threw it into the air aimed her wand at it and faux fire balled it blowing it apart it with a window rattling explosion.

"Then you better be able to time travel." Louise said as the smoke cleared.

"For a moment silence stretched Louise turned to a astonished Guiche "I don't think we can stop them." She said plainly and softly.

The Foquet fired bolder that sent her sprawling into the fountain was proof of that.

"Loui,,!" before Guiche could finish his sentence a low grade lighting bolt blew into him sending him back and unconscious.

A second bolder was sent out, only for Tabitha to stop it easily deflecting it to one side.

For once she did not have her book out. She was braced staff out facing the two mages.

"Wardes." Foquet said. "We failed we need to get back."

"What! No not with out making them pay!" Wardes drew his sword back, only for Foquet to stop it.

"Were needed at base now. And you know are orders." Wardes glared at her, then pointed his sword at his feet.

"You got lucky. Next time, you won't be." A small smoke cloud was conjured to life and the two faded away under its cover.

Leaving the students behind in the dark, in more ways then one.


	21. After actions and treachery

**_New chapter, not much to say._**

**_Reply to:Lost Guy: ,, wow i was not planing on that at all, the Sugar thing was just suppose to be Janet's verbal when she talking, not to actually mean anything. reading it over she does seem to have a thing for the lone wanderer. eepp, for the record she does not. She pretty much Asexual. _**

**_Reply to:bubbajack: only the tesla cannon and Derflinger got messed up. put the two in a fairer fight though and thing might turn out different._**

* * *

><p>Wheatley was tired, in pain and badly in need of rest.<p>

He was limping toward the hotel, a couple miles out he had made a walking stick and was relying on it.

When he finally got to the hotel building he pushed his way into the building. He scanned around once he was in. There in the main lounge was a familiar tuft of pink hair, odd had she cut it?

Taking a breath he fought another wave of pain off and approached. "Louise." She turned and two pair of jaws dropped to the floor so fast you could hair them clang off the floor.

Louise had a massive black eye and a well healed cut across her forehead. She had had indeed been cut and she looked generally like shad been dragged out into an ally and beat half to death with patch work of bruise across her face.

Wheatley though was much, much worse. What with the laser burns on his left side, glass shards in his face and the blood running down it staining his shirt.

"I take it Wardes got the letter?" Wheatley said.

"No, follow me, quick." Louise stood up and led her familiar out of the hotel.

"The two mages beat you?" Wheatley asked as the two of them made their way through the streets. It was still dark out and was roughly midnight so Wheatley had to place his steps with care.

"Badly. Guiche got a concussion, I got," she rubbed her bruised face. "Kirche unconscious Tabitha unharmed though that may be the fact they left us alone.

"Why?"

"How should I know?" Louise said. "They said they had something they needed to do."

"So where are we going?" Wheatley asked.

"Foquet and Wardes called the watch on us and were hiding.

"And the watch is where?" the marching footsteps of a patrol arrived on cue.

"O joy." Wheatley growled jamming his pipboy into his chin forming his stealth suit around him, he then turned invisible.

Louise though looked around, panicked and spotted, and then leapt into a trash can. The patrol marched by.

Louise stuck her head out of the can, an apple core on in her head. Her face was a mask of calm, baring the blood vessels standing out on her forehead even if on the inside she was full of anger, pain, of the physical kind.

Wheatley turned visible and showed her his pip boy "See the dial, twist it to the middle."

"Why don't you do it?" she asked. He showed her the hole in his hand. She blanched.

"That must, hurt." She understated

"excruciating." Wheatley said dryly. "Do it." She did. "OK, now use the arrow facing down the list until I say to stop." Louise did that cycling though the words till he told her to stop. "Now push that button." She did. The pipboy glowed and a sort of, smaller pip-boy emerged from the screen of it.

"Put it on your wrist." Wheatley ordered, Louise did so "now push that button," he pointed at the button, "to activate it, WAIT!" he said instantly went a thought hit him.

"What?" Louise said worried and confused.

"How far do we have to go?"

"Fairly far." She said wearily.

"OK, now push it." She did, and the stealth boy shimmered and she disappeared before his eyes.

Her voice though did not.

"I'm not sure if should scream." Louise said worn out from her day. Wheatley put his right hand on her head, (wincing as her hair set the nerves on fire around the hole) "Lead on Louise I'll be right behind you." His stealth suit engaged and the Wheatley followed Louise to the other students hiding spot as the picture of stealth.

"CRASH!"

"Louise watch your feet."

"Not my fault a pile of box was there."

Mostly the picture of stealth.

SHIFT

"And there." a doctor pulled the last shard of glass out of Wheatley face. "That's the last of it." He started to wrap bandages around his head.

"Thanks, can you do anything about my hand?" Wheatley asked. The doctor shook his head.

"I'm only a dot class mage." He said sadly. "The most I can do is keep the wound open so a square class mage can actually heal it."

"And that hurts." Wheatley commented.

"Very. I recommend spending the next few days drunk." The docotor start to wrap Wheatley's hand in bandages.

Louise and friends had got very lucky. They had run into the one group in the whole of Albion that would help them.

The Crown Loyalists.

Right now they were taking cover under a bar and the reek of beer was ever were.

Guiche was holding an ice bag to his head nursing a light burn; Kirche had a larger ice bag on her head Tabitha may have been reading but she was watching every thing carefully.

"SO what happened?" Wheatley asked. Guiche counter asked him a question.

"I think we should be asking that. You got torn up more then all of us put together."

Wheatley glared at him. But Guiche did have a point. In all likely hood he would have scars on his face due to the Tesla cannon. He sighed and started to tell what had happened. From the Emping to the fistfight, to Derflinger, to the gunfight and his escape.

"Damn." Kirche said. "This Janet, is tougher then you."

Wheatley sighed. "So it seems. And you four weren't a help." Before they could complain he plowed on. "Your good students, but that's it, compared to trained soldier, you fared as well as I did." Silence stretched. Wheatley interrupted their thoughts. "Does any one have a plan on how to get back to Tristain?

"Yes." Louise said. "The Loyalists are going to get us on a ship."

"And they want?" Louise asked.

"A chance to snub the Rebels."

"Which happens when we escape." Wheatley commented. "I like that. Now if your excuse me. I need some sleep, and a pain killer." He leaned over a candle and blew it out.

The other mages soon followed his example.

But that night Louise could not sleep. Wheatley words and both of there injuries were heavy on her mind. She sat up on her old bed of sacks and thin padding.

"Cap for your thought?" Wheatley said from his own bed only a few over from her.

"I, I'm a failure, I can't do the simplest task. Even my own fiancée hates me. I'm a zero." Louise sighed.

"Zero? Louise, magic is not you strong point but in the end they did not get what they wanted as much as we did not. More so, they needed the letter. We needed it gone." Wheatley had not moved and if his lips had not been moving then he would have looked for the entire world asleep. "We now have the chance to ready are selfves."

"What do you mean?" Louise asked.

Wheatley sat up and turned to face Louise, his bandaged face matching Louise bruised façade.

"Louise, just how hard do you think it would be to make some of my stuff? Weeks? Months? It actually days if you know what you're doing. Janet, possible a high ranking member of the Rebels all but admitted to me her ambitions were global in scope. What do you think that means for the rest of the rebellion? your nation will need that alliance, and soon i think."

SHIFT

The camp for the Reconquista lay in the woods, hidden from the air by trees and slight magic charms.

It was a small camp, only 300 soldiers, and 120 'company men'.

_Admittedly_, Janet thought to her self as she approached the camp, _not many people would get the, subtle distinction_. Lest of all the fact the company men could demolish almost 12 times there number in direct battle.

"Halt!" a guard to the camp called a challenge. Janet smiled.

When the Reconquista had started discipline had been lax, after two years of fighting they were a world-class force.

Still not up to the company men, but that was more of a equipment thing.

"Janet." She shouted back the guards waved her in and she entered the camp. She looked up at the moons, had to be midnight by now, the two mages were likely on their way back.

Good.

Janet was not perfect. Her biggest was that she had trouble hiding her emotions. Acade had called her a smiling fool when everything was going smoothly.

She had promptly said she was smiling fooler.

Right now she had a grin like an elephant. Friggen obvious, in a room.

She made her way through the tents. Past soldiers, and mages, the distinction was quite clear by the quality of there uniform.

Finally she got to the central tent. Again two guard challenger her. She answered it and was waved in.

Cromwell looked up from the map of Albion on the table.

The first think Janet did was she tapped a ring on her left finger and a rapid silence spell spread over the tent. No one could hear anything over said within.

"I have bad new my lord." Janet started. "The Gandalfr escaped from the ambush."

Cromwell glared at her. "What! You said you could kill him."

"Could is different from I WILL kill him. I was unsure." She shrugged.

"Unacceptable." Cromwell said pounding his map table lightly. "Is there any good news?"

This was it. The moments were she had to commit to a plan.

Janet shrugged and walked up to the map.

"He's just one man. Even the Gandalfr can only do so much damage."

"Maybe." Cromwell said unconvinced. He put his hands on the table. "Is everything else in order.

"Almost sir." Janet replied. "I have a few thing to double check." She gestured to the map. "Troop position and the like. The planned attack is to start with what unit first?"

"This one." Cromwell pointed to the symbol of a battle ship on the map, with his left hand.

"Indeed. Other ships will be from here, here and here." Janet said intentionally getting it wrong.

"No, from here," he pointed to a cruiser off the west coast with his left hand, "here," a pair of Frigates from the west were signaled out as well, with his left hand. "and here." A second Cruiser on the east coast was pointed out, with his RIGHT hand.

"Anything else." Janet though moved fast.

With one smooth move a knife was jammed down though his right hand severing his ring finger. Before he could cry out her other hand punched him between the eyes. Then drew a pistol pointing it at him.

"Yes." Janet said as if she had not done a thing. "There's more. I will say this now Mr. Cromwell." She quickly removed the finger and then slide the Ring of Andvari over her own right ring-finger. The runes on her forehead lighting up as she instantly forced her will over the ancient artifact.

"In our time of association I have come to the conclusion that you are a insufferable fool who would only succeed in driving this nation to its knees before its enemies and allies alike. Albion, and the world will be better off without you." She pointed at him with her right hand, ring pointing at his forehead.

"Good bye Cromwell." The ring activated.

The rings power was over the mind and body, enabling complete control over some ones.

She simply told his heart to stop beating.

He clenched and grabbed at his chest as the beat of his own heart stopped.

"Wh, wh,," he said as he slumped, to surprised to have tried to attack back at the sudden betrayal.

"Why?" Janet asked smirking. "History beckons." Finally he stopped gasping and was still.

"About time I got to this part." Janet said with a smile, she pointed the ring at Cromwell and he began to lightly glow. "Five years is a long time to wait for a new world."

SHIFT

Foquet and Wardes were outside Cromwell's command tent. It was almost two hours after they had encounter Louise, Guiche and the other students failing to get the letter back.

And right now the guards were refusing them access to Cromwell.

"You know I am Wardes." The guards nodded.

"That does not matter." The guard on the right huffed. "Cromwell gave us explicit instructions not to allow anyone access until he said so." A voice from within the tent spoke up just then.

"Indeed. And right now I say let them in." the two guard's nodded and let them pass with muttered apologies.

Inside they were met by the sight of Cromwell, Janet, three chairs, a now map less table, and Janet smile.

That last one made Wardes uneasy.

The last time he had seen her smile like that she had taught him how to play caravan and tricked him into beating three weeks pay on it. She had the proceeded to win that money, and mind game him into doing it again the same day.

"Greetings Wardes, Foquet." She bowed to each of them she then sat down in the chair. Leavening Cromwell, the leader of the rebellion and since they won that war, the lord of Albion, to stand.

And he did not say a word. Alarms began to go off in their heads and they shot each other glances.

She tapped the ring on her left hand and a slight pressure built on their ears. They were used to her spells of silence though; in fact Wardes had made that ring for her in the first place.

"Gentlemen, I have an awkward fact I need to tell you. Please sit." She gestured to the chair, the two shot each other more glances before sitting.

"And that is?" Wardes said. Foquet caught on first though.

Her eyes went wide when she saw the ring Janet's OTHER hand.

"O you figured it out then." Janet said. At Wardes confused look she smiled and told him the truth. "I killed Cromwell, and now I control him, the Reconquista and all of Albion." Silence stretched, tense and heavy. Janet expelled a lungful of air blowing a bang covering her bullet scar.

"You can clap now." She said simply.

"I, I, I don't have any words." Wardes said shocked. It was not every day that your leader was killed and then brought back to life as a puppet, "What do you want?"

"It's not what I want, it's what I need." Janet said leaning closer. "I need people I can work with who know the truth of the situation to make this easer. And as it stands you two are not only among the most capable, I've also worked with you two before when we cleared out the Albion monarchy."

"And why should we do anything with you?" Wardes asked finding his feet and voice on this new issue.

"Ignoring the fact I've already done it and that if you want anything you originally signed up for you have to follow me there are three reasons." Janet waited a moment for that sentence to sink in before continuing.

"Number one: I can more than double what anything you two were promised. Wardes? You joined for political power and gold?" he nodded skeptically. "How would you like to be the vice-roy of Tristian? And Foquet, I won't say what you want in front of company but rest I assured I will double it." she then plowed on.

"Number two: I'm smarter than Cromwell. It's a fact. I know what I'm doing and I can run this nation better than he ever could." She then launched into a Non Sequitur. "Do you know what ATAE is?"

"What?" Foquet said simply. "No!"

"Albion trade and exports." Janet said with a smile she leaned back and kicked a foot onto the table. "I own it. I started it. I made it. And right now? I am, quite arguably the richest woman in Albion. If I so wanted I could give a breach loading repeater rifle to every man in the Albion army, and more." She smiled then stood up. "I have such BIG DREAMS!

She then sat back down smiling broadly.

"I can take this nation, and in less than a generation into something that will make nobility as you know it obsolete. I will destroy the world by my mere presence, it will be remade not by my strength at arms, but by the weight of my ideas which shall catch like fire among dry timber and burn the castles and the manors to ash!" she had started softly and ended up yelling.

Silence stretched after her pronunciation. Foquet coughed into her hand. "And the third reason?"

"O yes, the third reason, and the one you two won't like." Jaent said off hand. Almost lazily she pointed her right at the two of the, the Ring of Andvari started to glow.

"I don't need your permission." Suddenly the two of them found their bodies taken from them, control forced into Janets hand.

"You will either help me bring about the new world, or I will crush you to make it. Either way I get what I want." She sudden released control and the two slumped from the enforced ridged positions.

"Your choice."

For a moment the two were silent before Wardes growled out. "Damn you."

"So that's a yes?" Janet said with a smile

"Yes, god damn it." Foquet was more subdued though Wardes but she was just as pleased by this situation as he was.

"Good." Janet said. "Now, before we start we need to get some fact straight that I feel you should know."

"Such as?" Wardes said frustrated.

"Cromwell has not been giving you orders over the past week. I have." Wardes shook his head. "I am no longer surprised."

"Get used to that feeling it will happen a lot from now on." Janet said smiling.

"So you're the reason we let those brats go? Why?" Foquet asked suddenly.

"Well for starts I disapprove of killing children in general. But for another killing Louise or any of the others would likely set Wheatley hell bent for leather to kill us."

"Didn't you beat him?" Wardes asked.

"Yes I did." At this Janet leaned back and propped her foot on the table again. "But I got lucky. I surprised and ambushed him in a more straight fight it would be less clear cut. Additionally do either of you KNOW where the 'Staff of Obliteration' came from?"

"The vault?" Foquet ventured.

"Technically correct but not what I was looking for." Janet commented. "It came from my world. So how did it get here, and what else was brought with it? Can the effect be replicated? Wheatley may know these facts. If we kill him or get him mad enough he will never tell us."

"Also." Janet said almost lazily. "I still think their hope for him. Recall that duel with Mott, Wardes?" the former knight captain nodded. "He did it to help a commoner, a maid; I think he has a crush on her or something." Janet shrugged. "In any case I think he was quite receptive to my speech about equality and only the situation kept him from truly joining me."

"And he matters why?" Wardes asked.

"Six guards, six seconds." Janet said citing his combat record. "It less him and more what he knows. Any mechanic from my world could, in the right situation introduce modern technology to your world. Wheatley may know enough to do so. And that would make are job of taking over harder, making him quite an asset to ether remove or preferable, subsume. Which again I think we have a good chance of."

"And he won't join us if we kill Louise." Wardes mused.

"He won't join us if we kill his friends. Period." Janet corrected.

"And Wales? You kept him alive why?" Foquet asked. Janet smiled.

"Well two reasons. One: we can always kill him later. Keeping him alive may bring up opportunities and affect Henrietta judgment in ways we cannot foresee. Reason number two: and a quick lesions in the unexpected consequences are actions cause is this." Janet smirked as she put both feet on the floor and sat normally again.

"He hates Wheatley. Hate him with a passion because he killed his guards, his friends. We can use that. If we can convince him Wheatley killed his family as well as his guards then we have a hunter killer with Wheatley name on it if we can't get him to join us."

"But you killed the Albion royal family." Foquet said. "Shot them dead I believe you said."

"Exactly, shot dead. Who else in this world has a rifle that leaves bullet holes like mine? Wheatley. Who does Wales have a preexisting grudge with?"

"Wheatley." Foquet finished, the intelligence of the women across from her finally beginning to sink in.

"Yes." Janet said. "Give me some time with him. He will not serve the force that killed his family, but if I can tie that exclusively with Cromwell, and paint my self as an unwilling accomplice, then he will if not follow me, then at least allow him self to be pointed at the right target."

Janet stretched. "Come to think of it. I best get started work on that. There more to fill you guys in on but those can wait." She shrugged. "Ok, here are your marching orders for now. Nothing." At there odd looks she shrugged. "We can't do anything just yet as we need the army for that and right now, we need to wait a little bit." Janet stood up tapping her ring the turning the well of silence off.

"Alright you two, I'll get to work on my jobs, you two do the same. For the rebellion." She paused at that comment and smiled. "Or rather, hail the king."

She smirked and left the tent. The two mercenaries looked at each other.

"If she swaggered any more when she walked, she flip over." Wardes commented sourly. He stared at the, undead Cromwell. "And I can't believe she going to get away with it."

Foquet nodded "Do you know what she meant by, a New world?"

Wardes frowned as he spoke. "No idea. But I think, were going to find out."


	22. Lecture and industy

new chapter, here we go.

Let me know if you want a different start, i had a very different opening to this chapter, but i went with this one.

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><p>It was stubborn foe. But one Wheatley had to defeat if he wanted to win any battle in the future.<p>

Louise who had been watching from nearby sighed.

"Why are you staring at your own armor?"

They had only been back at the school though for a few days.

It was a week after their trip to Albion. Shortly after they had arrived Princess Henrietta had seen to all their injuries, royal square class water mage medics could work wonders, and right now Wheatley was trying to get his mind back into wasteland survival mode, rather then the far more complacent one he had been in before.

He turned to face her and sighed. "Because it broken and I have no idea hot to fix it." He blew a puff of air sending a bang flying. Louise noted he had taken to growing his hair over the right side of his face, covering the scaring on his face.

"It looks fine to me." Louise said. Wheatley then pushed the armor over from its sitting position flipping it onto its stomach.

"Let me show you something Louise." The small mage walked over and stood beside the suit of armor. Wheatley sat down and opened the back of the armor up flipping and moving small armor plates away reveling the interior of the armors back pack.

"Ok Louise, you ever wonderer why I call it POWER armor rather then just plate armor, or armor?" she shook her head no, her brief, almost flapper cut flying wildly.

"You know that is a good look for you." Wheatley commented before he plowed back into the armors description before the realization of what he had said could sink in. "The armor weighs almost 80 pounds, it is incredibly heavy. To compensate the armor has servos, think of them as,," he search for a term she would understand. "Golem muscles." He said at last. "They do what ever I do when I'm inside the armor, so if I move my arm they move the arm the same way, only they do it stronger, making me stronger."

"Sound dangerous." Louise commented. "What if the Golem Muscles move before you do?"

"Snap. You'll have a new elbow." Wheatley commented. "That's half the problem." He de-atomized a small green piece of, something and handed it Louise. "See that? That is the armors CPU, central processing unit. That is the armors brain, it tells the muscles what to do and the do it."

"So what's the problem?" Louise asked as she gazed back at the mass of wires, tubes and circuits that was the internal structure of the armor.

"How do I put it, the armor is in a comma." He said after a moment of thought. "Brain dead. With out this, the muscles can't move, and it too heavy to use, much less fight in, and if I can't use It." He shrugged. "Life is going to get harder for both of us." He flexed his right hand frustrated, the fresh scar tissue on both side of the healed hand twanged lightly.

With a grunt and a hand wave the armor was atomized and flowed into his pip-boy. "You have a fire magic lecture today?" Louise nodded.

"Good Colbert may have a solution; he gets my stuff more then most of you."

"So, lets get going." Louise said.

SHIFT

The lecture hall was filled with students; on the teacher's desk was a odd device.

"It looks like a Cuckoo cloak." Louise commented as the two of them sat in their normal places at the back of the room.

"A what? No I'll figure it out." Wheatley sighed.

Colbert arrived soon after that comment and the pre-class chatter stopped.

"Fire magic." He began conjuring a small flame to his hand. "More then any type, fire is the magic of war, of battle, of destruction. But that is not far from the only truth." He clenched his fist and the flame died.

"Fire can be used to heat metals to incredible temperature, to form alloys and forge tools that help every one, mage and commoner. For example." He gestured to the device on the table.

"This device works by pressurizing steam formed by boiling water. The boiler." He pointed it out on the toy. "Has been forged to withstand heat and pressures much high then the thin sheet metal would normally allow." He put a wand to a small pan of oil under the device, said an incantation and a small puff of flame lit the oil on fire.

The flame boiled water, made steam, and made a pair of small automatons come out of a box and do a waltz.

"Obviously this is just a toy, but think of the possibilities." Colbert said excited.

The class, was unimpressed.

"Why?" Kirche said board. "Anything we can want we can do with magic." Other students agreed with her, a few may have ventured as far as to jeer.

Colbert was suitably cress fallen. He the lunched in a more practical use of fire magic, the melting points of metals and gave a homework assignment, slightly larger then was strictly necessary.

While the students worked on it Wheatley stood up and walked up to Colbert table at the front of the room.

"For the record." He commented. "I like your toy." Colbert lit up.

"Thank you, people tend to just laugh at my ideas. But I think there is real potential in this." Wheatley nodded. "There is." Then he got to what he needed to talk to Colbert about."

"Professor, I have a problem. My armors broken and don't have a replacement part for it. I was hoping me and you could jerry rig some, abomination to get it working again."

"Humm," he said. "I'm sorry, my experience with technology amounts to, this." He pointed somewhat sadly at the dancing automatons.

"That better than everyone else in the school. Heck the end result may be to make the thing part magical.

"Class is over in an hour, were work on it then." Wheatley nodded thanks him and then went back to his chair beside Louise.

SHIFT

A steam whistle screamed to the sky, the loud roar of forges as iron was melted, molded, and hammered into shape.

It was a 20 step process, and the end result was a .75 caliber barrel, from their it would be cut and shaped into either a rife, machine gun, or a anti air gun.

Janet took a deep breath of the air, hot iron, sweat of workers, she took in the sounds, the whoosh of air, the sizzle of cooling metal. She leaned over the railing.

"You know what I love most about nobles Wardes?" the treacherous noble rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"The way they arrogantly reject out of hand, anything that does not meet their preconceived notions of the world." she turned to Wardes about to make a comment, when she frowned.

Quickly she activated VATS and she slapped him hard. "Hay knuckle head. My. Eyes. Are. Up. here." Janet said pointing at her eyes the whole time.

"It's not my fault." Wardes counted. "your,,"

"Choose your next word carefully Sugar." Janet said sharply. Wardes shut up. And in his defense, by local standards, Janets blouse was made of thin material having been made for the Mojava wasteland. That fact she had a pleated skirt over a set of well-worn blue jeans, just, somehow, made it worse, along with a the wet, thick steam in the air.

"Good." Janet snuffed and then motioned the knight to follow her. "Foquet will be meeting us at my lab; I need to bring you two up to speed on some key political things and some developments I've come up with."

"So that's why were at this god damn factory." Wardes said sneezing out great gout of coal dust that was floating loose in the air."

"Yes one of my secondary lab is here, and let me just say I've come up with something that, well your see."

"I can't wait." Wardes deadpanned.

"You will love it sugar, that I guarantee." Janet said smirking.

The two turned down a hall way, leaving the sound and reek of the factory behind them, Janet slid open a door in front of them and the two entered the lab proper.

There were five tables each propped up against the walls of the room, and square lab table in the middle. Each table has shelving under them, and each had some kind of device on them. Save the one in the middle. A chalk board was set up along the back wall.

Foquet was already they're bouncing a small stone ball up and down in her hand. She was leaning against the center table, the only one that looked safe.

"Nice room, wards on the floor above it a bit weak though."

"I'll make sure to have that fixed." Janet said, having asked Foquet to break in to the lab to check its defenses.

Janet walked over behind a table pulled a pair of odd devices out and began her speech.

"First the reason I can do anything I will show you in the next few moments." She lifted the bangs over her forehead. "I am the Myozunitonirun, the mind of god this grants me mastery over magic. This allows me to make and create thing you two see as impossible. And rather than just blow stuff up I try to look at how magic works. And by finding out this basic knowledge I can manipulate and control the fundamental force of magic in ways you can't imagine."

She picked her next words carefully. "Do two you know who my, void "master" is?" she threw such a tone of sarcasm around the word that it was obvious what she thought of it.

"Cromwell." Foquet said. Janet shook her head.

"King Joseph of Gallia." The two mages could only stare in shook at that explanation. "Joseph only plays the moron, he quite intelligent." Janet said to counter the inevitable proclamations of his intelligence "I think, I'm only 94 percent sure here, his plan is to start the Albion rebellion, get it to fight Tristain, loose when Louise unlocks void powers in the fight, or the Germania army comes and crushes it, then mop up while ever one is weakened by the fighting."

"So, Joseph started the rebellion in Albion?" Foquet said surprised.

"Yes." Janet nodded. "If I had to place a guess I say upwards of 80% of the upper levels of the Reconquista are in Joseph pocket."

"Was Cromwell one of them?" Wardes asked.

"I don't think so, I always thought of him as an moron. In any case that's one of the reason I'm working so hard to build a commoner power base that's independent of the nobility, because I don't trust them."

"One of the reasons?" Foquet asked.

"Yes. The second reason is I just hate nobles on principle. I find them almost to an individual to be arrogant, haughty, and prideful. Leeches that feed on the life blood of a nation while giving almost nothing in return." Janet said arms accented her words with dramatic movement.

"Why do you do that?" Foquet asked.

"Do what?" Janet asked with a sly smile.

"Whenever you talk your arms and hand move around like you trying to swat flies, or milk giant cows."

"It intentional." Janet said with a chuckle. "Makes my more word forceful, more memorable and when you remember the person, you remember the argument. Of course, the side effect of my self taught steadies I tend to be forceful all the time. Also?" she said with a wide smile. "It's fun."

Silence then Janet coughed into her hand. "Any way, that's why we're going to war with Tristian NOW instead of on my time table, even if I do run this nation."

"You think we can't win?" Wardes asked somewhat boldly. Janet laughed.

"I know we can win sugar, the question is how much blood it will take, and how fast we can do."

"What do you mean?" Foquet asked confused.

"Give me a week sugar, I'll give you Tristain on a platter, give me a month, and I'll wage a war that will shake the great powers to the knees. Give me three years? I'll conquer all of Halkeginia in less than a week."

Silence met that proclamation. "Can you prove it?" Wardes said. Janet smiled and gestured to the thing in front of her.

The device looked like a sword, hooked with wires to a glass canister wrapped in brash reinforcing, bit like a barrel.

"Wardes, shoot the rod with a lightning bolt, low level if you please." She backed away and de-atomized a pair of dark wielding glasses.

Confused Wardes looked at her, only for him to gesture at him. Shrugging he did as he said and a quick bolt of energy flowed from his wand into the metal rod.

Oddly, the rod was undamaged. Also oddly, the glass canister had begun to glow.

"What just happened?" Wardes asked waving smoke away from his face.

"It broke the lighting bolt down and stored it as it component parts." Janet explained. At there confused look Janet blew out a puff of air. "Instead of what a mages does, putting the elements of a lighting bolt together, it broke them down and stored them here." She tapped the canister. "This glass canister contains two parts fire will power, to one part wind will power."

"What?" Wardes said. Janet was getting to the point of shouting.

"You moron mages," Janet snapped taking the glasses off "you content your self's with just shooting fire balls all over the place but you don't give a damn as to why you can do that. My research has only started but there seems to be four different types of will power, not only that you need skill to shape in to different types, but four general types. Five if we count void." Janet said after a moment of thought.

She sighed. "The point is that you can break a spell aimed at you and break it down to its will power components."

"Very interesting, but storing will power in a object is not a big feat. It the first step in enchanting anything." Wardes said with both dismissive shrug, and sounding very serious about the very interesting part.

"Yes, but this is the fascinating part!" at this Janet unhooked the Cylinder, pushed it to one side and connected a new, non-glowing one in its place. Then she moved to another table and quickly carried a large box with a crank on it to the table.

She clipped two things from the box onto the rod then began to spin the crank.

It was faint, but the cylinder began to glow, after a couple minutes she stopped. The glow was far fainter then the lighting tube, but it was there.

"That was not lighting, I used no magic to make that I only used my arm. And yet there is a small amount of magical will power." At this Janet leaned a bit closer to Wardes face. "How did I do that?" he was silent, he was not sure himself.

"What I did was I pumped electricity into It." she bounded away slightly then spun to face the two confused mages. "Do you know what this means? It means everything in this world," she began not giving them a chance to answer it. "Has a magical components, from lighting which is wind and fire, to an actual camp fire, which is just fire. With the proper,," she began only to figure out she was losing the two mages.

She explosively sighed. "To put in terms any noblemen could understand I have found a way to make will power from just about nothing. I can then use that to power magical devices. Without a mage being present." She added.

"I still don't think I understand." Wardes said confused.

Janet growled in anger. "It means, o god damn it to hell in a hand basket, it will become clear enough when I start exploiting this." She sighed and looked at her Pip-boy.

"Time waits for no man it seems. I need to make a trip, should chew up most of the afternoon, goodness knows I could use a break." She turned and made for the door. "Lock up after your selves, feel free to look around, nothing in there I can't replace and no one has any idea what any of it means."

"Anything dangerous in here?" Wardes asked concerned.

"A few things, I'm not quite sure what happens when you break a magic battery. But again." At this she smiled eerily, "nothing in here, I can't replace. Touch, at your discretion."

She closed the door chuckling at their concerned looks.

"That should make sure they don't touch anything for sure." Janet chuckled to her self as she left the factory.

SHIFT

Wheatley and Colbert looked at the armor, each trying to come up with an idea on how to get the thing to work. Louise was doing homework in her room.

"Why does it matter if you have this armor as compared to another suit?" Colbert asked.

"The armor plating much better then anything you can find in this world by a mile. I've been shot too many times to count and not even been bruised."

"Well," Colbert started, putting his hand on his chin. "We could take it apart and re-make it as normal plate mail."

"God I hope not." Wheatley grumbled.

From nearby Sestia noticed and approached the two, in her hands she was carrying a small bag.

"Could we, maybe make it sort of like a golem?" Wheatley asked. As the maid approached from behind.

"Doubtful." Colbert said sadly. "Shame really." He commented as he looked at the opened maintenance plate on the back. "It looks quite fascinating."

"Ya, best of engineering from over 200 years ago, and that why I'm so reluctant to take it apart."

"I can't imagine what your people can do now." Colbert commented.

"Dead world remember? Most of us can't even figure out how to work this save for a few groups." Siesta broke that thought off at the hilt as she spoke up.

"Wheatley, I've been looking for you, where have you been?" Wheatley winced and turned to face the maid. "I heard you were back but I couldn't not find you." Siesta continued.

"Well I've been busy." He commented.

"I think you've been avoiding me." She said a little hurt, she then noticed the bang on his face, they had not been enough time to fully cover the scars and though they were a bit harder to see, they could be seen.

"What happened to your face!" Siesta gasped. Wheatley sighed and brushed his hair away truly showing the network of almost knife like slices across his face. "It's complicated." He said with a shrug. \

"Are, you ok?" she asked reaching out to touch the side of his face resting her palm over the network of raised scared tissue.

"I'm fine now. May be a bit, sensitive about it but other wide fine." At his words Siesta pulled her hand away like it had been shocked. "Wish I could fix my armor though." Wheatley added distracting him self by shooting a glare at the hunk of metal in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Siesta asked.

"It seems." Colbert said. "A crucial part is broken."

"Can't you get another?" Siesta asked.

"Nope, these things were hard enough to scavenge back home. Only way to get another one would be to find another suit of power armor." Wheatley commented. "And unless you know a Brotherhood of Steel Knight than,,!" suddenly it hit him.

"There is one knight!" at Colbert's look he answered. "The knight who saved Headmaster Osmand! I can fix my armor!" he slammed his fist into his palm, wincing at the still fresh scar tissue across his hand.

"Siesta! You're a genius!" he reached over, picked up, hugged her hard as he spun her around once the put her down. Siesta had turned a bright shade of red. He atomized the power armor. "I'll need a word with Osmand, Thank for you help Colbert." The professor shrugged. "I didn't do much honestly."

"It's the thought that counts." Wheatley assured him. Then he turned to Siesta "You've been looking for me? What did you want to say to me?"

"O nothing much." Siesta admitted "you know I had a friend visit while you were gone, he really wanted to meet you."

"Shame I was gone then." Wheatley chuckled in a very good mood. "What do you have in the bag?" Siesta looked at it. "Ice, my friend gave me some drinks and I was keeping them cool in the noble's ice box." She pulled one of the bottles out of the bag.

"Want one?" Wheatley jaw dropped as he looked at the bottle. As he watched Siesta pulled the bottle top off of it with a pissted of gas and offered it to him.

"Siesta forgive my gobsmacked look, but how, in the name of flying Deathclaws, did you get a frigging Nuka a cola?" Siesta blinked in surprised.

The bottle was IDENTICAL to the one back in the wasteland, it was even carbonated, some how.

"There a local specially, I don't think I've ever seen one out side of my home village of Tarbes." Wheatley lifted his hand to his forehead as he did some thinking.

"Siesta I need to know everything about Tarbes." Wheatley said. Siesta shrugged.

"It, just a normal village as far as I know." She then took on a mischievous look. "There is one thing I'm not suppose to know about though."

"And that is?" Wheatley asked.

"My great, grandfather has a map that my best friend Richard claimed led to the Dragon king."

"A Dragon King, what is that?"

"I don't know, we were six at the time we snuck into the room." Siesta shrugged again."

"Right than." Wheatley said. "I want to see this, Dragon King."


	23. Vists

_**New chapter let me know what you think?**_

* * *

><p>"So to get your armor working, you need to go visit this village, Tarbes." Louise said as Wheatley explained the situation in her room that evening, the sun casting orange shadows though the room.<p>

"Yes, bloody convenient on are part the brother hood of steel guy was buried in the same town this Dragon King is suppose to be in."

"And you think this Dragon King is from your world?" Louise asked.

"Could be a Death-claw for all I know." Wheatley said with shrug. "I'll bet a bit higher then that though."

"I," Wheatley cut her off raising his hand sharply. He walked over to the door and wrenched it open. Kirche fell into the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Wheatley sharply asked.

"I thought I smelled a treasure hunt." Kirche said eyes lighting up with the thought of gold and adventure.

"Kirche, I really don't have a reason to say no to you." Wheatley said after a moment of thought..

The fire mage squeegee her self close to Wheatley, "Of course this is aloes a good time for us to get closer to each other.

"O yes, there's my reason."

SHIFT

IT was depressing.

He had lost everything and the commoners cheered the fall of it.

The coach rode by another bar full of celebrators who had spilled over into the street.

"I'd ask if something was wrong, but we both know that for you there is something very wrong."

He glared at Janet, one of sources of his misery.

"O don't give me that look Wales, if I had my way I'd be working with you rather then that idiot Cromwell."

The former prince spoke up for the first time that trip. "Then why did you help him instead of the monarchy?"

"That is a complex issue." Janet admitted. "Allow me to explain." She then began the explanation. "Why did your family rule Albion? And I don't mean 'because my father was king' I mean at its root, at the heart what gave you the authority to rule Albion"

"It dates all the way back to the prophet Brimir and the formalization of magic as we know it."

"Really? Your authority was god granted? Or at least god approved." Janet said with a shrug. "Well in my case I believe, and believe strongly, that the power of the government, must come from the governed. Sort of like a more powerful Parliament."

"And what does that have to do with why you supported the rebels?"

"The people, not the nobles choose against the monarchy. And I will not turn against a people united in common cause against a corrupt system of government, no matter how redeemable it may or may not be."

"The rebellion started with the nobility." Wales countered.

"Yes, it started there. But the fact that they managed to field armies as large as they did proves it to me. Armies of volunteers, armies that outnumbered what you could field and armies that at the end of the day, won."

"Say what you will Wales." Janet said gesturing out of the carriage. "The people have chosen, and I will not oppose them."

Wales was silent and looked out of the carriage again sadly musing on all he lost. "And the death of my family?" he turned to face Janet.

Janet took a breath and looked Wales in the eye. "Wales. I don't know, who killed you family. Not yet. But I strongly suspect that it was some one out side of the rebellion, that I can promise you."

"Why should I believe you?" Wales said lifting a manacled hand to demonstrate that the rebellion hated him, chained him at the least.

"Your still alive. If I had my way I would have taken them all alive and have got them to cede all rights to the throne, then I would exile them from Albion, no questions asked. Yet there dead and I don't know who killed them, and that makes me uneasy, some one is trying to influence Albion. I also think there doing a good job of it."

"And I should care why?" Wales said smugly. "The one good thing about not being in charge any more, IS not being in charge any more. Not my problem."

"Albion has a population of almost five thousand people. Do you care about them?"

"They rejected the royal family. You said so your self they choose the rebellion over me." Wales countered.

"They rejected the bad apples, the nobles who kidnapped pretty girls, who gorged the countryside to fill their coffers, they attacked the nobles who don't give a damn about the people, and they rejected you father, the king, who let it all happen. Can you honestly fault them for finally having enough?"

Wales could not.

"It's why I would rather be working with you rather then Cromwell." Janet said with a shrug. "Cromwell at his core is just as bad as most of the other nobles, maybe even worse. You though? You I could work with. You I would enjoy matching wits with." Janet said with a smile. "We would not agree on a lot of things but we could work it out."

"Instead were here." Wales sad sadly. "Opposite sides of a battle line."

"Not opposite." Janet corrected. "Your foe is who ever killed your family, and Cromwell. I only work for Albion. If that means I work for the royalists then I will, if I must work with the Reconquista then I will. Does not mean I have to like it."

The carriage stopped. Janet opened up the side door and helped the manacled former prince down.

"There at the back. I did the best I could for them give the situation. Your father may have been just as bad as the rest. But the rest of the family did not deserve there fate."

Wales looked up at the riflemen on the carriage's roof. "And there shoot me if I try to escape?"

"Your still technically the king, so I'm afraid so." Janet said sadly.

Wales nodded, turned away and walked away from the carriage.

Halfway there he turned around nervously.

They rifle men were wary but other wise unfazed. One even gave a lazy wave.

Still concerned Wales turned and kept moving till he was a set of tombstones. Slumping down he sat down beside one such stone and placed his hand on it, "Hello sister." Wales, not a prince, not a ruler, not respected, not even liked by the people of his own home, his family dead around him, finally let the tears that he had hid before Janet flowed.

SHIFT

The next morning Wheatley, Seista, Kirche, Tabitha and Guiche, (Wheatley had invited him to every one chagrin) approached the out skirts of the village of Tarbes.

As Siesta had suggested the nobles were dressed in brown commoner clothing. Seems the villagers of Tarbes, really, did not like nobles. The only sign one could use to identify them from before was the fact that Wheatley openly wore a revolver on his hip.

"Tarbes, Tarbes." Louise chanted to her self as the group walked up the main road, "Why does that sound so familiar?"

"It should sound familiar." Guiche commented. "There's a legend that the village is protected by a dragon that destroys ever threat that dares approach the village. Not to mention that every major rebel and revolutionary from the last 50 years has come from Tarbes my father, General Gramont," Guiche said proudly. "Has often talked about the joy leveling this village would give him." After a moment he realized he had just terrified Seista.

"I, mean is I, err."

"Shut up Guiche before you swallow your foot any deeper. In any case I did my reading on this place last night. If I had count Mott as a lord I would be mad as heck at nobility as well." Wheatley criticized.

Seista nodded.

"Mott is a revolting example and is far from the norm among nobles." Louise countered.

"And yet nothing is done about him." Wheatley responded. He then went off on a different tangent "OK, Seista you lead," Wheatley back peddled slightly putting him behind the maid. "You know the village best, so what do you want to do? You go for the map and meet us at the cemetery, or should we stick together?"

As Wheatley spoke to Seista Louise, Kirche and Guiche traded nervous looks. (Tabitha kept reading) they knew just what he had been tempted with by Janet, and that was eerily close to it."

"I think I'll go for the map, I'll meet you by the, cemetery." She frowned.

"Ya, I don't like digging up a dead guy anymore then you do. But as a fellow knight I think I can safety say he would rather have some one who could use his armor, then have it rust with him."

"I know." Seista said then she shrugged. "I'll met up with you at the Cemetery. See you." At that she spun on her heel and walked down path to a farm on the out skirts of the town.

The cemetery was in the middle of town, "Come on ladies, and Guiche, don't flirt with any one I really don't want to pry you out of a jam right now or something."

"I assure you I will not." Guiche countered.

"ya, Kirche, slap him if you see him look at a girl longer then three seconds any were other then the face."

"Wack!"

"He did it already?"

SHIFT

Seista house was not the biggest, even by the standards of a farming household, still it was large enough.

Silently she entered. Luckily every one was out of the house farming or something. It was one of the very few times Seista was glad to not find her family when she entered the house.

Quickly, retracing old steps she entered her great grandfathers room.

Looking around the small room she moved toward the dresser and drew the bottom drawer out. Fishing around she drew the map out from under the pants it was hiding under and slide it into her pocket.

She slide it shut stood up, turned around, opened the door to go into the main room, only for it to open first.

She was face to face with her great grandfather before her heartbeat had time to shoot skyward, which it did a second latter.

"Seista!" he said surprised wrinkled face twisting up in surprise. "What the blue blazes are you doing here?"

"I, was looking for you." She recovered fast. Her Great grandfather chuckled. "I doubt that highly. Just remember, don't do anything morally objectionable or stupid and it will be ok."

"Yes Grandfather." Seista said nervously.

Shaking his head her Grandfather walked over to his bed and gestured beside him. Seista sat down with a chuckle he took his hat off, reveling a well trimed set of snow-white hair and placed the hat on Seista head. "Remember this? You used to wear my hat all the time when you were younger, was three sizes to large and covered your eyes. Spent all your time ether running into doors with it on or looking for it to put on."

"Grandfather!" Seista said embarrassed taking the hat off and resting it on her lap.

"I know, I know, it my sacred job to embarrass children of any generation. And god knows I've spent enough time at it." Silence then her grandfather shook his head.

"You're going to be 18 next month right?" Seista nodded.

"Good your finally be brought are little secret."

Seista lit up. "So you can finally tell me were you, Richard and those other boys run off to all the time?"

"Indeed." Seista's grandfather said. "Your soon know it all." Silence again.

"Alright, I've kept you long enough." Her grandfather waved Siesta off "Keep up your mystery Siesta, though I do expect you over for dinner, where you will." At this he gave her a hard look. "Explain yourself. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir." Siesta said automatically.

"Good girl, now run along." At that Seista scuttled from the room a bit fast.

Shaking his head he held his hat in both hands looking at it, and remembering long off days.

He hummed old tune, the words coming back to him over the gulf of years.

_"I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:_

_As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;"_

SHIFT

The noble cemetery was much smaller than the commoner one. A walled in area of green grass set up in the shadow of a church. Right now the son was shining down hard on it rather then being behind the church and casting a shadow over it.

Also interesting, it did not seem to be as well taken care of as it should be with weeds and tall grass being fairly common.

Some of the nobles did not have tombstones, but were in small blocks of stone encasing them above ground.

"So, any one have a idea on how to find a Tombstone with out a name?" Wheatley asked curious.

"Of course." Guiche said. "Any noble would have his name inscribed upon the stone, other wise it would be assumed he a commoner. We merely need to find the one unknown tombstone."

"That seems logical. Right then split up gang." Wheatley said. As the group went to do that a voice from a nearby fence railing spoke up.

"So what are you up to?"

Wheatley turned to face a green haired guy with a bored look on his face.

"You could say were doing a bit of authorized grave robbing."

The green head looked more interested.

"Have fun, think I'll watch from here though."

"You guys really don't like nobles round here do you?" Wheatley commented.

"This town has almost been burned down by plague clearers three times. So ya. We don't like those guys who hold the torches." The green head shrugged again.

"I found it!" Louise shouted out.

"Well that was fast." Wheatley commented and walked over to the tombstone, every one else gathered around as well.

He knelt down and read the stone.

_**"We know not who he is.**_

_**We know not were he came from.**_

_**We know not why he was here.**_

_**We know he died defending a stranger.**_

_**That is all we need to know."**_

"Twist the knife why don't ya." Wheatley said standing up. He then turned to Guiche "OK Guiche time for your job." He looked confused. "You're a earth mage and there is six feet of earth between us and him, lets get this over with, I am not looking forward to this." Wheatley said with a sigh.

"O! Yes of course!" Guiche said and drew a wand and quickly began chanting.

Like a fish rising form the water the coffin rose out of the dirt.

The Green head scoffed from his post. "Great, nobles." He rolled his eyes but kept watching.

"So, how do we open this, can we with out breaking it open?" Wheatley asked. Every one shrugged. Wheatley tapped the wood, only for it to break; the wood was very rotten after 60 years in moist ground.

His hand shot away and an expression that could only say, I didn't do it, flashed over his face.

"If that's the box, what about the guy." Kirche said a pale look over her face.

"Can't be worse then anything back in the wasteland." Wheatley commented and reached for a rotten latch and flipped it open, only for the wood to shatter in his hand.

"OK." Wheatley said with a sighed. With a hand wave he atomized a hunting rifle. "I really did not want to do this."

"So, he's a noble too." The green head muttered to him self interested despite him self.

Wheatley knelt down and with one rifle smack the whole top of the coffin shattered in one clean blow. Maggots and chunks of fungus-infested wood went flying scattering across the grounds.

Picking though the shards of mushy wood, every one else crowding away from him not wanting to look inside, the armor finally emerged it self.

"T-51 power armor." Wheatley said with a smile. The armor true to its reputation was not even slightly rusted by over 60 years in the wet dirt. The others over came their inner revulsion and crowded around wanting a peek at the armor.

"Wow, so you thing's not one of a kind." Kirche commented.

"Nope, once upon a time an army wore armor like this." Frowning he reached into the box and drew an odd weapon out.

"Now what the hell is this?" it was an odd rifle like weapon with yellow tubes on a barrel wrapped in copper wire. He looked the thing over, flipped it over in his hands, and looked it over again.

"There's a pistol down here as well." Louise said. Wheatley atomized the mystery drawing the pistol out from its burial spot, brushing dirt off. With a sighed that was atomized as well. "Right lets get this over with." With a hand wave Wheatley atomized the knight's power armor before any one could get out of sight.

The knight under the armor, was not rotten, not even well aged, he looked for all the world like he was asleep, if very pale.

"He, not even rotten?" Kirche said confused. Wheatley reached out and rubbed a hand on his face, grossing every one else out.

"He's a Rad-mummy."

"A mommy?" Louise asked.

"Rad-Mummy." Wheatley said again. "You see them a lot back in the wasteland. Some one so radioactive when they die nothing wants to eat them, not animal. not fungus, notbacteria." He neglected to mention feral ghouls would eat them, and what a feral ghoul was.

"And, that's why he looks so, alive?" Louise said freaked out.

"That and the soil's moist," Wheatley said pointing at the coffin. "It keeping him from drying out, and the rads keep him from rotting.

"Some how that's creeper then if he was rotten." Kirche said shivering. He looked like he could just stand up again.

"Agreed." Wheatley said. "Guiche I need you to make a stone coffin for this guy." The noble nodded and quickly reformed a box of stone and sunk it back into the earth.

"Ok, time to get this to work." A few button pressed on his pipboy and to sets of power armor lay side by side on the ground.

The green head jaw dropped at the two sets of armor.

With great skill Wheatley slid open the back plate on the recently dug up armor, dug around in and took the CPU out. "Looks fine." He muttered, as he looked it over, blessing pre war ragnarok proofing technology.

He then turned to his old armor and replaced the CPU in its place.

The tubes lit up around it. "Well that looks good." He then atomized the armor. "Ok then." He stood up and took a few steps back. "The big one." He then used his hot key on his pipboy and his power armor flowed around him.

As soon as the armor took form his smile was clear. "O yah! Its working!" he bounced on his toes like the armor was made of silk and threw a few shadow boxing air punches.

"What do we do with the other armor?" Guiche asked. Wheatley looked at sadly. "I don't think we can fix it. Finding one CPU was hard enough. Two? I doubt it highly. Still, shame to leave it. Who wants to carry it?"

Guiche shrugged. "I don't have a problem with it, bit big though." Wheatley atomized the armor then pressed his hand to Guiche shoulder transferring the armor to the blonde.

He promptly fell over. "err, what did you do!" he said shocked. "I atomized the armor and put it in you." Wheatley said with a shrug, then it hit him.

"I should have asked right? Oops, you want me to take it back." Guiche stood back up.

"NO, I, lord I feel heavy, should handle myself."

"If its any consolation carrying that does make you stronger when it is removed." Wheatley countered.

He then scanned around spotting Siesta approaching, oddly the green haired guy was gone. "And they are second objective, this is going better then I thought."

SHIFT

Finally! After months of painstaking research! He had found the resting place of the Dragon King! Grinning Colbert crushed the map in his hand joy, panicked he paused and flattened on a rock winching as he did so, those were not thorn bushes, they were thorns that happened to bushes. They did not even have leaves! Just green thorns.

Shaking his head he walked into the cave. He was ready for any and all traps that could possible happen. Magical, mechanical. He was prepared.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!


	24. Preluded to,,,

_**New chapta, not much to say. let me know what yall think.**_

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><p>Wheatley had atomized his power armor and had his simple duster on as he followed Siesta the other students behind him.<p>

The forest trail they were using was highly over grown and seemed to be in ill use.

"You sure this is the way?" Louise asked. Siesta shrugged. "This is the first time I've ever seen the map this long."

"As long as we follow it, we should be fine." Wheatley assured.

The path ended at a hedge of thick bushes with yellow flowers. In front of the bushes was a sign.

Wheatley leaned close to it, it said quite simply, **Don't intrude or you will die. **Quite plain and simple and not at all a deterrent to the treasure hunters.

"Ok, what are those things?" Wheatley asked about the bushes. Siesta shivered at a bad memory.

"Gourse bushes. I fell in one when I was eight, all thorns and highly flammable."

"So, is this a dead end?" Guiche asked. Wheatley took a few steps back and looked it over more closely. "I think there's a cave behind it. What does the map say?"

"It says, go forward, then there's a hidden door on the side."

"Right, so we can do this two ways, fast or," before he speak some one in the cave spoke. "IS any on there!" once more Louise recognized it.

"Colbert! Is that you!" she yelled in.

"Yes, and I seem to have bubbyed into a trap."

"Are you ok!" Wheatley shouted in.

"I can't feel my leg, not sure I still have one." The surprisingly stoic reply came back.

"Fast it is!" with a hand shake he de-atomized his ripper and,,

"Hello partner!" Wheatley paused.

"Derflinger!" he looked shocked at the weapon; it now had a hilt guard that moved when Derflinger talked.

"Ya and it took you long enough to use this weapon."

"How did,,? never mind! No time." Wheatley began only to cut himself off by throttling the Ripper's blade into a spinning maelstrom of teeth.

Striking the bushes great chunks were lopped away in long flowing swings. Once a large enough path was clear he spared a moment to look at Derflinger. "You ok."

"So that was what you call an motor! I think I need a smoke!" Wheatley shook his head and plowed into the cave, flipping his pip-boy light on as he lead the students into the darkness.

Colbert was only a couple yards in the cave. He had crawled up against a rock and was trying to bandage his leg, or rather what was left of his right leg, it being missing below the knee. Blood was splattered all over the cave floor, mixing with the dirt to mud.

"Colbert!" Louise said as they approached the professor. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure." Colbert groaned. Wheatley de-atomized a Whiskey and handed to him as he started to de-atomize his servants clothing to make a bandage out of them. "I was walking and then there was this, sound."

"Like what?" Wheatley asked as he poured some old beer over the wound, hoping the alcohol would help.

He winced in pain. "Like, a beep." Wheatley stopped in shook. "Three beeps then a kaboom?" Colbert nodded.

"Land mines." Wheatley said as he looked back down the tunnel.

"Mines? What does mineing have to do with this?" Guiche asked, he was next to Wheatley, a bit unsure what to do."

"Mines, not mining. Hold this." He atomized a crutch and passed it to Guiche. "Ok, best bet would be to cauterized this sucker."

"NO." Colbert groaned. "Water magic can't heal a cauterized wound."

"Damn." Wheatley de-atmoized a few stim packs and jammed them around the wound.

"This should help." The auto injectors began to rapidly close the wound and the painkillers dulled the pain.

"That should help, but it will be one big scab so be careful. The crutch?" Guiche handed it to Wheatley. Then the two helped Colbert up and gave him the crutch.

"SO, what are these land mines?" Colbert asked.

"A small explosive made to go off when you step on it." Wheatley said as he examined the cave ahead. With a motion he de-atomized a frag grenade, he pulled the pin, "Frag out." He said from long experiences with the Brotherhood of Steel, and tossed it.

It bounced twice, sat for a few second then exploded setting off a chain reaction of a couple land mines.

"Damn." Wheatley said, he thought this though. "Do we want to keep going forward, or do we fall back?"

"Forward, I'm stable." Colbert answered, the pain killers in the stimpack had to be kicking into to make him sound so normal, and not pain filled.

"Well if the wounded say it then I agree. Follow me slowly, if you here a beeping throw your self back ward." At that Wheatley walked forward pipboy lighting the way.

There were only eight land mines; nine if you count the one Colbert had stepped on. But they were well hidden and more then once Wheatley had stepped on one and been forced to quickly de-fused the mine he was standing on.

Suddenly he exited the cave, a back exit opening into a woodeland path. Carefully walking forward he walked the worn dirt path carefully, still no more land mine showed themselves.

The loud snapping of a stick twisted Wheatley around, ripper ready, only to find the ripper would do him no good.

Not more then 15 feet away, in a nearby shrubbery, was a sight he had thought he would never see again.

A Enclave Hellfire trooper, pointing a heavy incinerator at him.

SHIFT

Wardes entered the room.

Deep in the heart of the capital building of Albion was Janet's primary lab.

Lit by magical lights Janet worked on the very nature of the world.

Right now Janet was tinkering with on what back in the wasteland would be called a Jacob's ladder, save this one tended to shoot fire and small burst of wind rather then electricity.

Grunting in frustration Janet looked up.

"Funny thing. I can distil the elements of magic, fire from flame and wind from a breeze. But I can't combine them worth a damn."

"You brought me down to complain to me?" Wardes asked.

"No, just frustrated. Lighting would be the easiest thing for me to work with for long-range destruction, and yet it alludes me." She shrugged.

"In any case I wanted some perspective."

"On what?" Wardes asked.

"Tonight I'm going to have a chat with the generals about are plan to invade Tristain, as a former noble I want to know numbers."

"Numbers?" Wardes asked.

"Tactics, number of men, cannons, ships, the whole spiel. And forgive me if I do some work I'll be paying attention." Janet then went back to work on the thing on the table altering wires and sliding plates with pre-made enchanted circles on them.

"Well, Tristain has a small standing army. They historically have had to rely on treaties with either Germania or Gallia playing one against the other."

"Which they have nether of right now." Janet said as she flipped a switch. Another blast of fire and air.

"Shit." She muttered and did some more work.

"What are you trying to do?" Wardes asked.

"I'm trying to make a small arc of electricity based on fire and air magic stored here." She tapped a pair of containers. "Problem is I have no idea how to modulate the flow of power. For that matter I don't have a way to determine how much power I'm using, I don't even have words to describe the amount of power I need to use." She paused then shook her head.

"Ya I jumped the gun on this one." She sighed then turned back to Wardes. "Any battle plans? What happens if there invaded other then pray their ally's come to save them?"

"A counter attack." Wardes said. "Any incursion into Tristan soil is to be met with force as soon as possible."

"Humm, is the attack to be initiated from the top? If not then you may have a bunch of low level commanders attacking with little to no coordination."

"That has been the case a few times in are past." Wardes admitted

"Our past?" Janet chuckled and leaned over the table. "What's the matter Sugar? Feeling remorseful?"

"Of course not." Wardes huffed, "Tristan, Albion, they're both just lines on a map Albion could merly grant me more of what I wanted."

"Money right?" Janet asked.

Wardes nodded.

"If your going to be a traitor Wardes make sure you're a reliable one."

"Meaning?" Wardes said.

"Nothing, just some advice." Janet shrugged.

"Tell me more then. Who would Count Mott react if we invaded his land?"

"He the first target?"

"No, his land is the staging point." Janet clarified. "The plan's still fuzzy in my head at the moment," she rubbed her forehead, "but so far it calls for a sneak attack on Tristan, no declaring war three days in advance to let them prepare. We paint are ships black and ambush them."

For a second noble Wardes could not comprehend that kind of basic treachery on that kind of scale. Janet laughed at his confusion. "It's a new world Wardes, one can either ride the wave, or be crushed by it."

"I liked the old one better." Wardes complained.

"True, but your kinds are no longer at the helm." As Janet talked another puff of fire came from the apparatus she was fiddling with torching a nearby bug. "The commoners will be calling the shots before the end of the decade."

SHIFT

Wheatley did not freeze in surprise, he had been fighting hell fire troopers for years.

A button push on his pip-boy de-atomized his armor, while that was happening he drew his revolver and fired.

Six head shots, with out vats he could not quite thread a bullet though a eye hole, so the bullets splattered off the armored helmet, (incidentally throwing steel spalling into his face from the force of the bullets) as the man stumbled back Wheatley power armor fully formed, he then quickly had his Xuanlong assault rifle and emptied the clip into the stumbling enclave solider.

He fell over out of view.

Running forward Wheatley lept over the small foliage between them and land infront of the trooper.

Making a point to quickly load his rifle he then lowered it. At this range with vats he could thread a bullet into his eye plate.

But he wanted information.

The trooper got the first question off though.

"Who are you? Were did you get that armor!" he sounded less like an Enclave member and more like a teenager awed by something.

"I believe I have the rifle here." Wheatley replied. The trooper worked his way to a sitting position and took his helmet off; blood was running down his face from a number of small head wounds.

"Ouch, that's what I get for not were a ski mask." The black haired guy said running a hand though his hair as he wiped blood off his face.

"So that's why you guys always were one." Wheatley mused. He had always wondered about that.

The guy started to wrap bandages around his face as he talked. "So why the heck are you here?"

"Why are you here?" Wheatley countered, he did not get the general answer.

"Enforcing the, intrude you will die sign, what part of that was confusing?" he snapped.

"In our defense, all ancient ruins tend to say that."

"Our? There more then just you?" he asked.

Wheatley turned and gave a shout. "Hay you guys close?"

The bush rustled and Louise emerged. Her eyes boggled, two knights!

"Who is he?" she asked as the others filed into the clearing.

"My name is," before he could finish it Siesta cut him off

"Richard!" her eyes bulged.

"Siesta!" he then slapped himself. "The map! You took the map right!" Siesta nodded. "And these are nobles from the school." He said doing the math in his head.

"I'm not." Wheatley commented.

Richard ignored Wheatley "We keep are "Dragon" he throw quote marks around the word. "secret 80 years and now nothing!" he made a pistol thing with his hand and held it to his forehead. "Blam."

He took on what could only be called a pout.

"Look, Richard," Wheatley de-atomized his rifle. "All I want to do see this dragon, if it what I think it is." Richard scoffed.

"Of course it is."

"Then it and I from the same planet." Richard perked up at those words. "Wait, you from America?"

"If you can call the waste land that." Wheatley commented.

"I thought you just picked the armor off a dead guy and managed to get it to work." Richard said rebound slightly from his offended tone from earlier. "So your from America how you get here?" Richard stood up. "And does any see my gun?" he looked around.

"I was summoned by Louise over there." He gestured to the pink haired girl.

"So wait, your Wheatley?" Wheatley nodded.

"Well then." Richard chuckled. "Seems I owe you a apology and my full name." He extended his hand

"Pyro-technician Pvt Richard Rico, Enclave Airborne assault squad 04."


	25. still a prelude

_**Heres a new chapter, sorry it took a while, let me know what you guys think?**_

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><p>Wheatley looked at the open hand and ignored it.<p>

"How did the enclave get here?"

Thrown off by the harsh reply Richard pulled his hand back. "Long story short: we don't know. My grandfather took off at raven rock base." He paused at Wheatley malicious smile, like he knew something he did not "and well, come down here. Or rather over there." He pointed toward a clearing, though there was a forest in between them and the clearing so they could not see it.

For a moment there was silence as they all tried to figure out what to do next.

Wheatley then spoke up. "Can you show us the 'dragon'?"

He looked confused as he tried to puzzle out if he should. "Look we don't tell are secrets to anyone except ourselves and are children." He then looked over Wheatley, a thought passing though his head.

"Ok fine, I don't suppose the nobles will stay behind?"

Guiche was affronted. "Now see here," at the same moment Richard and Wheatley cut him off. "Shut up." Wheatley just added his name. "Guiche."

"I like you already." Richard chuckled. He shook his head after that statement. His mood and emotions were just swinging all over the place.

"Lead on then, Richard." Wheatley commented, thought the word boarded on order.

"umm, yes. The shed is, that way." He pointed down the path and the group went down it.

As they walked the group split into two groups.

Richard and Siesta up front, Wheatley and the mages behind.

Siesta glared up at her power armored friend. He looked back down, blood from the spalling running down his forehead, running around and through his bandages.

"What?" he said shrugged, a picture of false innocents on his face.

"I don't know, let's start with that armor." She tapped his pectoral armor, her knuckles ringing off it a bit like a bucket.

"It, was my great grandfathers, like how when you great grandfather dies, your inherit his position and rank."

"Rank? Position?" Seista asked.

"Yes. When the holder of the rank dies, the next generation takes over. Just so happens, well." He rubbed the back of his head unsure how to put it.

Seista knew what. Her father died in a farming accident, her grandfather died of plague before she was born.

"You shouldn't keep secrets." Richard scoffed at her naïve statement.

"We don't. If you recall correctly were told almost as long as we can remember that when we turn 18 we would be told a 'secret' or we join a club or, something." Richard shrugged. "Also remember, our home came close to be burned down by 'nobles'."

"But, they didn't." Seista said confused.

"Why do you think they didn't?" Richard said slapping his breastplate with his arm, the armor plates clanking off each other. "Were likely going to have to get you up to speed tonight along with Wheatley." He shot him a glance. "What are the odds."

Meanwhile, Louise asked Wheatley a question. "You don't seem happy to see this guy."

"And you wonder why?" 101 asked." She nodded.

"The enclave killed my father." He answered, "They tried to kill the whole capital wasteland. So yes, I'm not happy to see them at all." He shot Richard a glace just when Richard did, there eyes meet, and he looked away.

"I am, however, willing to give this Richard, the benefit of the doubt until such a time as he give me a reason to end him."

"That's a bit harsh don't you think?" Kirche commented.

"Kirche, you know me, if he gave me a reason to end him. It would be a good one. He'd still be dead, but it be for a good reason."

After a moment he spun around. "How you holding up Colbert?"

The now maimed man was huffing, the painkillers were really doing their job.

"I'm fine, but I expect this to catch up to me tomorrow."

"I take it you stepped on a land mine?" Richard said with out looking back.

"A more hated weapon I have never met." Colbert commented

"I'm not found of the things either." Richard admitted, "Not sorry you stepped on it you greedy bugger."

"I am not a greedy treasure hunter!" Colbert snapped.

"Of course YOU say that." Richard said sharply. "You don't think that, I don't know, something's are not suppose to be known?"

"Then why does the story keep going?" Kirche asked. Richard smirked "The first act of the 'dragon' was to destroy three whole armies worth of mage knights. In a week." Everyone who understood that sentence stopped for a moment to think of that kind of power.

"You coming?" Richard said sharply, every one picked the pace. This Dragon was suddenly even more interesting.

A few yards down the trail, around a bend in the path a wooden shed loomed out of the woods.

Shed though, was a poor word.

It was the size of a house with twin double doors for a façade, no windows but it was covered in some kind of green netting making it hard was to see at a distance. Like say, from the air.

The group walked up and Richard spun around to face the mages gathered around the door.

"Look, we don't tell anyone about this, much less nobles, and we want to keep it that way."

"Well, what is it?" Guiche asked. With a sighed Richard broke almost 89 years of secrecy.

"This." He pushed the twin doors inward reveling the object inside.

"You know." Wheatley commented over the cries of wonder from the other mages. "I'm not even surprised anymore."

He walked forward and placed his hand the nose of the 'dragon'.

Knew to dwellers of the capital wasteland, as the Virtibird.

Sitting in the shed much like the dragon the locals thought it was, a predatory bird, aged, and showing the wear of time, rust peeking though the paint in places. But it was clearly well tended and the rust only accented it lean predatory look.

As the other mages walked around inspecting it Wheatley placed his hand on the nose cone of the thing.

As soon as he did, the runes on his hand glowed and he instantly knew how to fly it, how to pull bank turns, bombing runs, and more.

"Son of a deathclaw." Wheatley muttered. It seems his instant skill with all weapons, extended to machines like the Virtibird.

While Wheatley wondered at the odds Richard waved Siesta over and she walked over to him, around the Virtibird to the back of the hanger.

Set above a work desk with the guts of a laser pistol spread out on it, were photos.

In each photo a core group of armored men stood in the center, but in each photo after the first there were additional people, unarmored. They all had smiles on there faces.

In a few photos the faces wearing the armor changed, other faded, the people changed, and the armor got more scuffed up.

At the last photo Richard placed his finger on a armored figure at the end of the line.

"That's me," he then slid his finger over stopping over Louise Great-grandfather "and that's your great-grandfather, captain Isaac." He wore lighter, slimmer armor. "The Captain is in charge, and if he dies, well." He turned to Siesta, "that puts you in charge."

"Me?" Siesta said stunned. "b,b,b I don't understand any of this!"

"Agreed." Richard spun around to face Wheatley.

"Command should go to the most experience, not just by blood."

"Hay, buddy, that's just how things work and quite frankly it works for our power armor. I will admit command a bit tricky, but Seista given me no reason not to think she would be a good commander, save for bring a pack of nobles down here." He leaned over to peak around the Vitibird. "Don't touch that!" Guiche had been slowly spinning one of the rotors around.

"This thing is older than your father."

"This thing's, a dragon?" Guiche said surprised.

"More like a dragon fly, assuming it flies at all." Kirche said off hand.

"This 'dragon fly' has killed more nobles then you know people." Richard defended with a shout.

"So how does this thing fly any way?" Kirche said with a board drawl. Surprisingly Guiche came up with the answer.

"It's obvious. Like those spinning toys my baby cousins are so fond of the blades spin, somehow and lift the whole thing off the ground." Silence.

"Wow, Guiche I'm impressed, that exactly how it works." Wheatley commented.

SHIFT

Randel approached the cave.

Humming a tune he noted the sliced to ribbons gorse bushes in front of the cave.

"Need to fix that." He muttered and entered the cave.

Rather then go though the land mines he turned into a door way hidden in the rock wall on the right and took the passage to the back of the cave.

One he emerged into the light he walked forward onto the trail and called out. "Richard time to change guard." He didn't say anything.

"Richard?" he pushed his way into the foliage, to the guard post the only trace he had ever been there was a heavy incinerator left on the ground.

"O fucking shit." He muttered. He fumbled for the plasma pistol on his belt, drawing it only on the third tug.

Taking an energy cell from a pocket on his shirt he slid into place, the pistol hummed to life green fire lighting on the end of it.

Pistol drawn now the Enclave trooper sped down the path, leg pumping, at flat run.

At the turn he skidded around it and slid to a stop, panting.

The hanger was open, the Virtibird reveled, and a pair of people, a blue haired girl with a book under her arm, and a blond haired boy, were looking at it.

"O shit," Randal muttered again. What did he do? His armor was in the hanger, and if they were mages, which they had to be to get here when they were so young, they could paint him across the floor if he was not careful.

Taking a calming breath he moved forward pistol extended, as he approached the two mages, gun sights trained on the blue heads back.

Once he was 20 or so paces away he spoke loudly and firmly.

"You! Mages!" the two mages spun around staring down the 'barrel' of the plasma pistol, "Put your hands on your head and,,!" he did not get further a sharp gun crack echoed and the gun exploaded out of his hand.

Hissing in pain Randal shook his hand in the air as the mages now pointed wands at him, he put his own hands in the air.

Rifle still smoking Wheatley emerged from the hanger, power armor gleaming, Randal's month dropped.

"What the hell!"

"I would say the same, save this is your Hanger." Wheatley commented. Richard then stepped beside Wheatley, "Put the gun down." He said shove the rifle down ward.

"Richard, what the fucking hell is going on!" Randal snapped

"Calm down, this is Wheatley," Richard plunked his hand on to Wheatley shoulder with the clank of metal. "And he is a fellow enclave solider," he was going to say more but Wheatley cut him off. Shrugging his hand off his shoulder.

"Back up!" Wheatley said harshly. "You think I am a Enclave solider?"

"Well, ya." Richard said surprised. "Where else could you get that armor."

Randal interrupted Wheatley epiphany. "And you let him bring a bunch of nobles to are vertibird!"

"No, he led himself to it." Richard said self-aware. Poking her head out from behind Siesta interjected her self to the conversation.

"Randal!"

"You know him?" Louise asked from the other side of the vertibird.

"Barely." Sesita replied. "We went to school together. He was always getting in trouble due to his month."

"Nice to see you too, what the hell are you doing here with these nobles!" Randal snapped.

"I did'nt think this dragon myth meant anything." Siesta said back.

"Ya, you didn't fucken think!" he snapped back, louder.

"Look Randel, its good you here." Richard said. "I need you to run back to Captain, tell him, well, everything. We need to debrief Wheatley and get Siesta up to speed."

"And why the fuck should I?" Randel snapped.

"Because, because," Richard said rubbing the back of his head in thought. "Because if you don't, your be the one explain to Captain why you didn't tell him about another Enclave trooper showing up." Randel made a move to argue, thought about then marched off down the path away from the group.

"By the way Richard: Where is you Incinerator?" he called over his shoulder as he went out of sight. Richard startled and slammed his palm into his fist. "I'll go get It." He muttered.

Wheatley placed his hand on his shoulder stopping him from leaving. "You think I'm a enclave trooper?"

"Well, ya!" he countered. "Were else could you get that armor."

"I am not a Enclave trooper." Wheatley leaned close to Richards face. "The enclave killed my father, tried to kill the whole capital wasteland, killed countless people, innocents, I am not a member of the enclave, I am a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel."

Richard was confused as he took a few steps back from the lone wanderers expression, everything he had been told said the Enclave were heroes, not murderers.

While he backed a way slowly under a withering glare Siesta asked him a question. "Wait, you said my great grandfather was your captain." Richard nodded. "Randel seemed almost scared of the idea of meeting him."

"Yes and?" Richard said, Wheatley had stopped glaring at him, he was still looking just not intensely.

"My grandfather would not hurt a fly! He is a kindly old man who bakes cookies and play hide and seek with his grand daughter when she steals his hat!" she neglected to mention that when he baked, the cookies were war crimes.

"He is quite, intense at times. You just have never seen it."

SHIFT

Cal, short for Calvin sped though the town, skidding to a dead stop at Siesta house.

"Captain! Captain! He shouted as he approached the door. Just before he reached it, the door slammed open and the hard face of the captain met him.

"You have ten seconds to explain why your shouting my rank for every on too hear while were making dinner."

Cal panted as he explained. "Captain Maxwell some, one , noble maybe wore a suit of power armor!"

"That explains it. Were are they now?" Captain Maxwell said.

"Not sure. I scattered soon after I saw the armor. Last check had them in the grave yard."

"Gather the others." Captain Maxwell said. "We need to gather together and get our armor from the Hanger. Get to it."

"Sir yes sir!" Cal saluted and sped off to do that.

Maxwell watched him go. He checked his belt and drew a Plasma pistol looking at the well-tended weapon fondly. Memories of the last time he used it coming back hard.

Nobles had made it a point to never challenge the Demons to a duel ever again.

SHIFT

Janet was smoking a cigarette filling the room with a low haze of taboco smoke that gleamed off the touch lights.

The large room was bare save for a large table and curtains around the room. The table had a magic map on it, capable of zooming in on locations to show larger views. Right not it was focused on Tristain, there target.

She was a little early for the meeting but soon the room would fill up with generals and admirals.

All stogie old men thought the old way; a way that did not realize was obsolete, yet.

Finally a knock at the door drew her attention away from her smoke. She grounded the glowing tip into the table

"You can enter." She said calmly and the first group entered, wax mustaches bobbing and egos puffed to match their facial hair.

She waited till the room was full before she started.

"Gentlemen, I welcome you today tactical meeting where you are to be informed of our long term plan. I trust you all had a present day?" nodes and assertion went around

"Good them. Now, I run my meetings loosely, so feel free to comment at any time I trust we can all be gentlemen on this?" nodes went around the room again.

"Very good, also I will be very frank, so forgive me." She took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"We will invade Tristain in a week when Albion is closest to her." A few generals nodded. Nothing unexpected they had heard a few rumors to this effect. Others were surprised but did not show it.

"I see some of you know. What you may not know is how we are going to do it." She took a pause for emphasis's. "We will give no warning, no declaration of war, we shall sail are ships over in the dark of the night and shell there capital." She thumped the city in question on the map with her hand.

"Any questions?"

Silence for a second the general, old one, Comwell, (No relation to the current Lord Protector) spoke up. "You want us, to attack in such a dishonorable way."

Janet pointed behind them. "You see that?" they turned to face the door. "That door leads out. If you have a problem with anything I say. Use it and don't let it hit your ass on the way." Silence met that statement, shocked silence.

"My ways may be against your line of thought. But they are more effective by far. Which is easier, attacking a ready foe? Or one unprepared? An entrenched enemy? Or one caught in the open? You all know the answers; I plan to merely extend the same courtesy to a whole nation."

"Now, if any of you have a problem with winning, then leave, you have no place in my war room. But if you want to win, if you wish to forge a empire the likes of which this world has never seen before then stay, and listen. Now then, which is it?"

Cromwell slammed the table with his hands hard. "I have ten years experience and i will not be treated like this!"

"Like what!" Janet countered, she would not cower, she would get her way, even if she had to bash her ego against his till one yielded.

and she never yielded.

"Like a person who seems unable to grasp the simple idea in front of them. I admit I am a bit crass but quite frankly that does not invalidated my point. We attack from surprise for the best chance of success. Again if you have a problem with that tactic then again, leave."

She looked around the room at the faces of the generals.

"Now then I say again, any one want to win?"

SHIFT

"Well that could have gone better." Foquet commented stepping out from behind a curtain. It was almost two hours after the meeting began, the generals had just left the room, though at the meeting start three had left in a huff.

Janet sighed, with a quick button press she deatomizeing a wine bottle "Honestly I want to get rid of all are old generals there just going to be a drag when there way of wars obsolete. Remember: I'm changing war forever on four levels: tactically, strategical, technology and morally." Janet frowned taking a swig from the bottle. "Don't tell any one, but a few of my ides scare me a little."

"You? Scared? What could scare you?" Foquet said confused.

"Gas." Janet said plainly, she thumped the bottle against the table. "It's complex, but not hard to make especially since we can take short cuts with magic."

"Gas?" Foquet said.

"A terror weapon to be unleashed only in times of need, of course that means we have to use it at least once, maybe as mane as three times to make it feared."

"How bad could that be?" Foquet asked.

"If we have a lab accident it could easily kill every one in Lundom." Janet laughed at Foquets face. "Have I yet been wrong? Back on the subject of generals, it will be impossible to reteach them how to fight a war after so long locked in a rut. A few of my early ideas are already set to change war forever, in fact I have a life fire demonstration to oversee in a few minutes. Consider you self invited Lady Clarissa, lesson will be learned by every one."

Foquet rolled her eyes at her Janet assigned alter ego. After all, god forbid that one of Albions greatest minds was seen publicly with Fouqet.

"What kind of, demonstration."

"Now that would be telling." Janet snickered. "I'll say five word: Breach loaders and rapid fire."

SHIFT

The sun was hanging low in the sky.

When Maxwell led the nearly complete enclave squad toward the shed, Calvin, Randel, Jake, Lance, Sally and Jane were the troopers. The literally twin heavy troopers, Vince and Vance, who used the Gatling lasers when in combat.

Lastly was the 'pilot' in name only, Katie, who had never taken the Vertibird more then a foot of the ground. Every one was nervous about the idea of flying and so far no one had actually done it.

Nervously she clenched a laser pistol in both hands, for that matter they were all nervous, nobles in there hanger? They might figure somethings out, and nobles had long memorys.

Of the group Lance was leading, wearing the only suit of they did not keep at the shed. His Plasma rifle probing like a hound he pushed forward leading the squad down the path,

"See anything?" Maxwell asked.

"Negative." the metallic sounding voice echoed back thanks to the helmet. He turned his face to look at his captain

"Forward them." he said.

Lance nodded, took two steps forward around the corner, only to almost jump back in surprise.

"What the hell!" he shouted a stumbling back.

The rest of the squad rushed forward and found the white bulk of a set of power armor they did not recognize in front of them, the man inside did not have the helmet on and his twin amber eyes were glaring at them from behind a pair of glasses.

Wheatley was feeling a bit smug on his part. He had got straight form Stealth suit to power armor in a half second. He crossed his hands over his chest as he gazed as the squad in front of him.

"Gentlemen."


	26. AN UPDATE!

_**THIS TOOK FOREVER!**_

_**i'm sorry for the suckingly slow update, and thank those blocks who reviewed this recently to inspire me to get off my tush and do this. corse now we get to the fun part. Next updates. . . I have surprises.  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>"Evening." Janet said with a smile. She had just joined a group of select noblemen on a ridge over looking a field on the edge of town. It had taken a short carriage ride to get over here, and right now said Carriage was sitting nearby with darkened windows.<p>

"Miss Courier." one of the more petulant nobles said, Janet meanwhile snickered internally at her choice of last name. "Care to explain why were out in the middle of nowhere? I can think of more pleasing things to do today then watch your toys."

"Indeed I will." Janet said walking over to the crest of the hill, which had the dirt piled a bit higher than else were so it was a bit like a stage. "Of six of you, your lands are considered idea for the future expansion of Albion industry. Of two of you, your lands will be the future drilling zones. Lastly the rest of you have been invited for many reasons which are a bit to long-winded to explain right here." _Some of those reason is that I don't trust you and I want to show you what can happen to you. _Janet added to her self.

A common problem was the fact that nobles had a bad tendency to ignore laws they did not like. To get them to obey the laws you needed force, and nobles were powerful mages plus they generally came with large family's and blood ties to other family's meaning trying that if you tried to force someone to obey a law on some one and you could incite a civil war, or even a normal war if a few of those blood ties were across a border and they got involved. That was what had happened to Albion. Additionally the house troops that each noble had were generally well-trained professional men, and each noble generally had a couple hundred, though more powerful ones had as many as few thousand.

In war the 'national army' was made of the nobles and the household troops they could bring. This reduced the kings burden to keep a standing army, as that was up to the nobles. This left the king with a, to Janet, unacceptable level of power the position amounting to little more than having a lot of influence with no real power.

Clearly trying to force a law to be enforced required other nobles to be either willing to help, or they had to lend you their house hold troops for the task. So if the nobles did not want to help you then you were stuck with the small royal guard forces that were truly loyal to the monarch. For Albion these were the Yeomen Knights, and they only number 2,000 commoners led by 50 mage knights. Nothing to the joint mite of a mere five counts or dukes, which there were hundreds of, and the risk of civil war made it not worth the trouble for most issues.

It was a constant fight to keep laws enforced and unpopular laws, like tax reform, were generally unenforceable.

Ah! The wonders of the Feudal system.

Janet had the solution.

A powerful, truly, National army with no loyalty to any one noble, but to the state it self. That way they could come down like a hammer on any one who broke any law no matter how unpopular. The idea was not a new one. Romania sort of had the system with the Guard, men loyal only to the pope. The problem was no commoner army could stand even five to one odds with noble men. You needed nobles to fight with you or you lost too many men to be worth the trouble of enforcing the laws, hence revolving back to the issue of enforcing laws the nobles did not like.

It was a catch 22. you needed nobles to be in the army, but you needed the army to police the nobles, so why would the nobles join an army that was just going to smash them?

Hand guns helped, but not a lot. Arquebus just took too long to reload, were to inaccurate, and too short ranged to help. But when they did hit: the target, Commoner and noble was going down. The pope had early on had tried to ban their use upon other human nation, that had gone nowhere.

For Janet the key to a proper National army was making the Commoner more able to fight the nobleman on at least three to one odds. For that she had to do one thing.

Up the tech level.

The standard foot infantry weapon was destined, for now, to be a .308 caliber semi auto revolver rifle. A bullet that was big enough to blow any mages spine out at almost any combat range. The odds even one on one were not good for the noble who could be killed with a finger twitch.

Add to that the array of heavy weapons to be shown off today and there was almost nothing a straight commoner force could deal with, and that was before rest of the army arrived. Namely the national (air) navy, air force, (consisting of airborne dragon and griffin combat 'wings', and mechanical flight methods that had not been implemented yet) and the confusing 'Auto Cuirassiers,' which she had yet to invent or explain in any real detail what they were. Taken together there was in theory nothing that could stand before the army. Much less any puffed up noblemen, like the ones she was trying to intimdate now.

Blowing a few noble manors up would either force the others into line, or make them rise up. Either way, the problem would be solved in short order. After all, they only had so many men they could throw into the grinder, a national army would be bigger by far.

All that was one of the reasons why she was showing off only the flashy weapons today, they made the best impressions, so she would not HAVE to kill any one later.

"Gentlemen we shall keep this short." she turned and face down the steep incline on the other side at the trained gun gun crews, and the handful of mages on, 'target detail.'

"Set up targets: infantry loose formation." the nobles nodded and a number of clay targets were summoned up down range, each the size, and density of a human body.

"I'm sorry does any one have a stop watch?" one noble did. "Care to keep time?" "Certainly." he said.

"Ok then, now when I command a team of six commoners, and two guns will destroy every target there. I want you to keep track of the time." "There are some 60 targets at over a 100 yards. On your ready." Janet finished.

Silence stretched then the man with the stop watch said, loudly in a commanding voice.

"What do you mean?"

"When your ready, just tell them and begin the demonstration.

"OK, ready!" he shouted. He promptly dropped the watch in shock as the roar of gun fire that ensued.

The HR-5 (heavy repeater 5) was a short squat, ugly weapon. Notable for it's round barrel shrouding, oak shoulder stock, and boxy receiver, the gun was built to do one thing.

Spit out .308 caliber bullets out as fast as it could.

The bullet size was chosen to keep a single standard cartridge across the army.

With a roar a five-inch flame was vomited from the barrel of the HR-5, as spent brass slid across the air in smooth arcs.

The targets were blown apart in smooth slicing arcs, while the nobles made impressed noises. Janet meanwhile was not impressed. She made a note to over see all future weapon development. That barrel had to be longer, they were losing to much powder out the barrel.

It was still a frigen impressive weapon for its flaws.

The hail storm of lead cut the the statures down in less then five seconds as it spat it hate down rage faster then the speed of sound.

Silence in the after match as the last target crumbled.

"The time sir." she said not turning to the noble.

"I'm sorry, I was not looking." he said stunned.

"To be expected. Now then, trial two." she called downward at the target detail. "Infantry loose formation." the 60 clay solider rose up ward again.

About to be cut down, again.

"now then, two shots, seven pounder mortar, again on your ready." Janet said. The man, more cautiously this time shouted. "fire at will."

The mortar sounded, odd to any one he knew of mortars being more of a 'thump, then a bang of a true Black power weapon. All weapons in the new Albions army used smokeless powder though it took squad of square class earth mages to make enough. That said they were well on their way to having their weapons being completely commoner make.

Quickly the rounds hammered up and rained down each shell slamming down sending a hail of shrapnel and earth in plumes of stone and steel though the targets ripping the targets apart.

Of the 60 targets, by the second impact, only 12 were left standing, and the time between shots had been incredibly short.

"again, I note your impressed." Janet said with a smile. "now, then one last thing and then were be done for the evening. Target: Golem square class."

With a nod the Target detail cast their magic out of the groundrose the massive golem of rock and stone, this time at much longer ranges than the human targets.

"now then, as you know you standard commoner foot trooper has no recourse when facing a golem." nods went around before one person, Janet labeled him a smart ass piped up. "You arm them with hammers and tell them to go at it."

"Let me restate that: they don't have a effective anti golem weapon." no smart ass comment at that. "Well, now they do." Janet said, before any one could counter that statement she order the test of the last weapon.

This weapon was a damn dodgy one at time, only recently working, and she had worked off and on it for almost five years she had been here.

The weapon was suppose to be a rocket launcher, like, the German Panzerschreck, and missile launcher used in WW three. But the rocket had proven too tricky, there were close, but not there yet.

So instead a stop gap had been implemented. A light 14 pounder cannon with a shape charge warhead. The barrel was short, and the powder load was so low, you had to fire it like a howitzer arcing the shell. Theoretical a strong mage could block the shot.

Very powerful, hardish to move, (Though far easier then a proper cannon), but effective.

With a bang the shell impacted the 'golem', and exploded in a crimson flame ripping the golem apart in a massive smoke cloud of ash and dust.

Silence stretched while they waited for the smoke to blow away, and when it did, it reveled that the solid stone 'golem', lay in three parts on the ground.

Janet smiled broadly. She spun on her heel to face the people in front of her. "Well then, that's it for the weapon tests are there any questions?"

None then one of them spoke.

"What game are you playing!" the smart ass shouted.

"Excuse me?" Janet said back her will rising to batter this fewl apart!

"There is no way you could do this without magic, yet this is what you keep insinuating! So again, what game are you playing at?"

"No game. These are exactly as they seem to be." With a hand wave she datomized a SMG, a few people looked impressed at the display of magic, the more learned were confused, that magic should be impossible.

She held the SMG one-handed and fired a spray of 9mm bullets into the air. In the silence the followed she glared at the faces around her.

"You are required to do nothing, much less believe. But when these weapons start to write the pages of history's in the blood of their foes, then you will believe."

Janet spun on her heel and marched back to her carriage, her face lightning with each step.

Everything, bar the mortars maybe since they seemed to be just a noise then a fire-ball, was with in their ability to comprehend. A cannon, and a fancy repatering rifle, they had simple version of those now. (of the multiple barrel kind though). They would believe her, even if they did not, well she could just turn the weapons on them if it came down to it.

Hopefully, she had scared a few of them straight.

Which was the real point of today.

She opened the carriage door and slide across from the single occupant that saw everything.

"in my defense sugar, you wanted to come and see and see what I was doing today, and I did say you could come." Janet said with a snigger at Prince Wales expression. She lit up a cigarette blowing a plume of smoke to one side.

"Your going to war, and your going to win."Wales said softly. Janet stopped smoking.

"Who told you?" she said tacitly confirming it.

"The drilling troops out side my bared window." Wales said smartly back.

"There, you not going to believe what ever is say right?" Janet said shaking her head with smile.

"No, and your going to attack Tristain. It fits. It's why you wanted my letter, it's a weak nation and your going to attack it." O he was clever.

"In my defense: I get my marching orders from Cromwell, he says jump, I "

"Say how high?"

"Nope, maximum height is assumed." Janet said injecting a touch of sadness into her voice. "Again: I work with Cromwell, but rest assured I far from approve of many of his choices and decisions."

This argument was old and Wales sighed. "I know, I know." he said sadly.

"Don't worry Sugar." Janet resting a hand on his shoulder. "The world is changing, and as they say, a rising tide lifts all boats, or dashes them against the rocks, and I highly doubt Cromwell can float.

"I hope he gets what he deserves." Wales said vindictively. "on that note: do you know who killed my family?"

"No, I don't know yet." Janet said. "When I know, I will let you know."

"I would, appreciate that. Thank you." Wales said.

"Don't appreciate me yet sugar," Janet said turning to look at a window as the carriage as they left the demonstration area and started to enter the city proper. "I have yet to deliver."

* * *

><p>The sun was hanging low in the sky as Wheatley re-wrapped and changed Colbert leg bandage.<p>

On his part: Colbert was drinking a deatomized whiskey. Grunting Wheatley chucked the bloody bandage into a crackling camp fire where it was consumed instintly.

"You can look now." Wheatley said and Louise, Guiche, Seista and Kirche pulled there hands off their eyes.

"

You sure mages can heal that?" Wheatley asked.

"

Yes, though I will likely walk with a limp for the rest of my life."

"ya, when those other guys going to get back?" Wheatley asked Richard who sat on a log around the fire.

"There all getting there armor on. Sort of a tradition to have it on at these meetings." he responded.

"At this point I'm still unsure if I should shoot you or not." the nobles turned to face Captain Maxwell who walked out of the night to join them by the fire.

His lighter officer armor was easier and faster than every one else power armor. Beside him, towering in his heavy enclave trooper armor was Lance.

"You try that and your find a bullet in your head faster than you can say shoot them."

Wheatley stood up, his own white power armor gleaming in the camp fire and twilight.

That armor," Maxwell walked up and tapped his finger against the armor plate. "or rather, what it represents, is the only thing that makes me willing to inform you and your, nobles of us." he cast a scathing glare over the students. "Where did you get it?" he commanded.

"Locked in a prewar bunker. Had to go into a VR simulation of anchorage to unlock it." Wheatley replied crossing his arms as he glared at the enclave officer. His answer confused everyone but Captain Maxwell.

Interesting." he scanned the armor again. "whats your rank trooper?" Wheatley rolled his shoulder, reveling the symbol of the Brotherhood of Steel there.

"Paladin Wheatley James."

"So, you're a member of the brotherhood of steel." Maxwell said now glaring at the now hated person in front of him.

"and proud of it." Wheatley said back.

The two of them exchanged glares (while Lance just looked confused at all the hidden context he was missing)

Grandfather." Seista said from where she was sitting. "What is going on?"

Wheatley was the one to answer back. "He trying to decide if he wants to kill me."

I am not." Maxwell rallyed back with.

Ya, right." Wheatley said rolling his eyes. "The enclave in my extensive experience is a shoot first and ask questions later organization."

"And yet all you have is your word upon mine." Maxwell responded.

"So it seems." Wheatley countered. The two kept glaring at each other until the sound of clinking armor turned them to face the rest of the squad."

"How long you guys been there?" Wheatley asked.

Long enough." Calvin said walking to the front of the group, "What did happen to the old Enclave?"

"Something I want to know too." Maxwell said crossing his arms."

"Your want the long or the short answer?" Wheatley said with a sadistic smile as he sat down on a log."

"Short, and if that does not satisfy me, the long one." he sat down on a log around the fire, followed shortly by the others."

"Ok, short answer is, Enclave tried to poison every one who a mutant."

"A what?" Louise asked.

"Mutant." Wheatly said looking for words for it. "If a human is normal, a mutant is, not normal. Like Charon."

"So, ghouls are mutants.?" Louise asked. He's a Ghoul.

"Your correct good lady."

"I'm sorry but, Ghouls?" Jane said nervously, echoed by Siesta. "Those thing exist."

"Thing my ass." Wheatley said deatomizing a well-worn photograph and handing it to to the trooper closest to him. "He is a person."

"any way." Wheatley said getting back on track. "Enclave wanted to kill mutants, go after my dads project for clear water."

"James got project purity working?" Maxwell said surprised.

"...How the hell do you know that?" Wheatley said frustrated.

"As if we would not keep tabs on everything, we just never thought he would ever get the damn thing working. What happened next?" Maxwell said, eye brows furling in intrest.. Louise knew this part of the story and held her breath.

"Enclave killed my dad, then I go one big roaring rampage of revenge, get to raven rock base, talk robot president Eden convince him to blow up the base, destroyed enclave with 50 foot tall giant robot that throws nukes like foot balls, then go to Adams air force base blow up land crawler with your own satellite, destroyed Encalve, save wasteland am a hero. End of story." he crossed his arms and waited for the response.

Maxwell opened his mouth silently once, then twice, till he resembled a fish. His mind tried to process that. on the one had, that was just imposable for a mere wastelander to pull off. On the other hand, how the hell did he known about Adams base, President Eden, Raven Rock, the orbital luncher and more. plus his eyes. Hard like Stone they glared at him "Holy shit, were the only east cost Enclave asset you've yet to destroy." he seemed to think about what to do next.

"Never thought of it that way." Wheatley said after a moment of thought with s shrug. "and unless you plan to start something, I won't go ten for ten."

"That makes me so glad." Sally said sarcastically.

"On that note: I've never seen a female enclave trooper, and you have three of them." Wheatley said turning to the trooper in question.

"I'm the, 'pilot'." Katie said. "Not that I've ever gotten air borne." she said with a sigh.

"As for Sally, Jane and Seista, we just go off of blood line, if we discriminated on gender too we would not have nearly enough people." Maxwell answered.

"I see." Wheatley nodded at the answer from Maxwell. "Your turn I suppose." Wheatley asked. "How the hell did you get here."

"Magic." Maxwell answered with a shrug.

"...Details?" Wheatley said after a moment.

"Ok, the Vertibird was on routine patrol, there was a eclipse, next thing we know were flying over a forest. Confused we land and we start to scout a nearby town we flew over. Now, some more back ground." Maxwell took a deep breath. "Before we should up Tristan was in the climax of the plagues and they were in the middle of the de Gramont plan."

"de Gramont? Say, isn't your last name de Gramont; Guiche?" Wheatley said without thinking, seconds later he realized what he had just done.

Guiche suddenly found 11 pairs of eyes focus on him like mirrors focused on an ant.

"What! No of course not!" he said with much hand waving and head shaking. "My names can't be de Gramont!"

"I say we turn him upside down and beat him till candy comes out." Lance said with an evil glare. A chorus of agreements went around the fire.

"Before we do any smacking: what was this plan?" Wheatley said.

"The plan had two stages to it, First quarantine small villages where the plague was, then wait till everyone was dead from the plague, or immune to it then move on." Maxwell explained.

"Sounds sensible, crude, but sensible." Wheatley said just before he shot a quick look, Colbert, he was oddly silent, and not meeting any one's eyes at the moment, just staring at his leg.

"That was the official plan: and while yes on paper it just that, in practice there were two problems." Maxwell replied.

"First, and most important: how is a walled off village supposed to get food? They can't without contaminating the people besieging them so they just starve. Secondly: who gets possession of all the property of the now dead peasant? The nearest noble."

"ouch." Wheatley winched. "They have an incentive to let the villagers die." He said softly.

"They have an incentive: to perform slash and burn." Lance said frustrated. "After the plan was approved, whole villages were burned just for a sign of the infection, city's decimated, as it, one/tenth of their population killed."

"Damn." Wheatley said softly.

"Be fair." Louise said sharply. "Not every noble was like that."

"Name one." Maxwell said in a cold tone of voice his glare forcing the young girl to back down. "I know of at least three ranking barons who tried to burn Tarbes to the ground."

"Only we were there." the so far silent Vance said, he had yet to take off his helmet and his face was a deep mechanical bass, Guiche went pale. He figured who these guys where.

"Impossible!" he said softly. A deep chuckle went around the fire from the Enclave troopers. "He knows." Vince said pointing with his finger.

"What do you mean?" Wheatley asked. "Knows what, Guiche! Have you been hiding something?" he turned his glare on the blonde flop, who was hiding behind a log nervously looking at the troopers across from him.

"What is wrong Guiche?" Kirche asked confused. She looked back at the troopers. "They don't look that bad."

"One of those ranking nobles that tried to sack Tarbes was de Gramont him self." Lance chuckled. "He likely got the story second-hand from his grandfather."

Maxwell nodded agreement. "Were a horror story." Maxwell said with an evil smile, his mind going back to those days, of the cracks of musket, roar of familiar and screech of magic. "If you're a noble you might know the tale by heart. Knights who speak not a word, clad in armor as black as night wielding weapons of fire, light and dark green flames."

"Incenrators, Lasers, and Plasma." Wheatley translated. "You guys must have had a field day."

"You get the picture." Maxwell said with a smile.

"And I don't know why?" Wheatley said "I mean, you think that sort of thing would be shouted from the roof tops."

"It was a long time ago, and in a place where the written word is few and far between memory's save by nobles." he gestured at cowering Guiche. "not only is our friend here likely literate, the very grandfather were talking about may have told him about us."

"Not to mention trying to talk about it is considered sedition." Vance said from under his helmet.

"Right," Wheatley said trying to put pieces together. "so the nobles show up, you show up, why do you defend Tarbes?"

"I make it sound like the two events happened soon after each other don't I?" Maxwell said rubbing a hand though his hair. "There was about a week's gap between the events. It was suggested we fly back though the eclipse but I vetoed that plan, if it didn't work we would have wasted all of our fuel. So we had spent a week in the town, figuring that if we could not do anything else we would have to mingle with the population, then the army shows up, and even in the wasteland seeing a couple hundred guys with flintlocks is bizarre."

"I can imagine." Wheatley said running a finger along a scratch on his armor.

"I think you can picture what happened next." Maxwell said "We fought them off once, twice, and the third time they went for all the marbles."

_"I guess even the Enclave has standards." _Wheatley commented in his head. "What do you mean by that?"

Maxwell reached into a pocket and pulled out a sausage wrapped in paper. "The first two times was about the plague, the second was about the seeming rebellion that they thought was present. They sent a small army, and we cut them down, one laser bolt a time. After that we stuck around the town for lack of a better idea, and we had kids." He gestured to the troopers around him. "and the nobles pretended it never happened." He took a bit out of the sausage. "The real question is what we do with you."

"What do you mean by that?" Siesta asked nervously.

"Well we have a group of nobles who know more than we want them to, along with the man who claims to have destroyed the entire East Coast Enclave. Before us, and we so love are secrets." He drummed a tattoo on the grip of his pistol.

"Are you suggesting we just shoot all of them?" Randel asked nervously as he glanced at Wheatley. He had pulled his Assault rifle out and was making a point in polishing the barrel.

"It would be the most logical choice." Katie said, only to get a hard glare from Wheatley and the other mages present, (except Guiche, he was till cowering) "but . . . not the best."

"Who said I was going to suggest that." Maxwell said quickly picking up on the lack of support from his 'troops' "The fact is though; we have an important secret we need to keep hidden and a group of nobles now know it, what do we do?"

"Well short of killing us, which by the way good luck with that," Wheatley said as he chambered the rifle with a threatening clank, (and a non-threatening metallic tink) "I'm really hard to kill, your only other option is to just swear us to secrecy which we ALL do." Wheatley said glaring around, chambering his rifle again. A second tink went through the night air.

"Don't we?" He said. This time nods and nervous affirmations went through the noble half of the crowd. "There you see? We are all on board." Wheatley said with a smile.

"I suppose we don't have a choice but to accept that." Maxwell grunted.

"Well if it helps I'm pretty sure I can fly that thing." Wheatley gestured to the Virtibird shed in the dark. "magic runes and all that plus I'm sure we can come up with fuel for it, not to mention capacitors, recharges, servo," Wheatley said as he sweetened the pot so to speak as he counted down all the things that a laser weapon needed to function. "Heck I think I have some spare parts in hand right now." He gestured with his pip-boy. "So really: you're getting ahead out of this."

"Well that is good." Lance said with a relieved sigh. He did not want to know how he would respond to a 'kill them' order.

"Well can we eat now?" Kirche said breaking her silence up to now. "Colbert seems to have fallen asleep." Wheatley pivoted to look the man over. He had fallen asleep propped on his walking staff in a sitting position. "Ya pain killers and whiskey will do that. Anyone knows where we can bunk him down for the night?"

* * *

><p>The bed in question was a guest bed, Wheatley, Louise, and Siesta (suggested incidentally by Wheatley as it would leave most of the powerful mages back at the camp fire if they did change their mind) had taken Colbert to the Siestas house and they had just placed them in bed. "Shesh he's heavy for a professor." Wheatley said rolling his shoulders as he closed the door behind him.<p>

"Ya." Louise grunted from where has passed out in a chair exhausted. "Why did you make me carry him?"

"I needed some help, and you have string bean arms . . . what the hell is a string bean anyway?" Wheatley said distracted. "You have any round here?" Louise was too tired to respond to the quip with anything other than a death glare.

"I think so." Seista said as she moved into the kitchen and started to look for it. Wheatley took a chair and puffed his bang out of his face. "What a day. Who knew we find all this here. What do you think Seista? Its you blood."

"I. . . don't know." She said conflicted. "They always said they had a secret to tell me when I grew up, but that is a bit much to take in at once."

"Neatly explains why you got cola here though." Wheatley said shrugging. "You got a baseball team?"

"The Salamanders won 8-5 in the finals." Seista said in response.

"Ya?" Louise groaned. "At this rate we won't be able to head back to the school." Wheatley chuckled.

"I'm actually still free for a few days." Seista said. "I was. . . kind of hoping you could stay for it." Louise was beginning to get up to steam.

"No! I have classes!"

"Any reason you need me for that?" Wheatley said looking at her then at Colbert's room. "And keep it down." He hissed. "In any case I want to ply the Encalve round her for more information, at least for a few more days."

"No way in hell I'm leaving you here." Louise snapped. Wheatley looked at Seista who was still rummaging for string beans. "Leaving me here? Or leaving me with her?" Louise stammering was all the answer he needed. "Louise," Wheatley sighed "lets table this issue for now and talk about it later. For now let me focus on the Enclave thing, and you focus on class work."

"You still don't trust them?" Seista said some what hurt as she found the string beans.

"I trust the Enclave about as far as I could throw Liberty Prime." Wheatley said with more than a little venom. "And he's as big as a castle tower. But better the snake you can see then the snake in the rocks. Sides, they may even be nice and I won't have to kill them all after all."

"You wouldn't! Seista said panicked. "I know Lance and half of those people! There nice people! Good people!"

"OK, first off, calm down." Wheatley said. "Second I said I hope I would not, and if you say so then I highly doubt I will have to. Thirdly: do you need help? You dropped the plants on the floor?"

"Those are string beans." Sesita said glad for the distraction. "and no I have it."

"Crips, no wonder they say people have muscles like them." Wheatley said, decidedly ignoring the death glare boring into his shoulder.


End file.
